


Curse of the mask

by pegasus_fics



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pegasus_fics/pseuds/pegasus_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Christine arrives with her father, Earl of Baideanach to Alterwood Castle to marry Raoul, Prince of Glayweth. There she meets his mysterious masked cousin who turns her life upside down. But not everything is as it seems...E/C, AU medieval-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to my new POTO fic! :) This is an AU version, medieval-ish setting. Names of places are fictional and if some place exists like that, it's completely accidental. The land is fictional too, though I've loosely based the look on Scotland.
> 
> The look of Erik is based on Gerard Butler's role in Atilla (less tanned, though). If you haven't seen it, google it. Guh. :D Other POTO characters are based on the looks of their movie counterparts.
> 
> It's my first time writing something for this era, so any feedback is very much appreciated!
> 
> POTO characters don't belong to me.
> 
> Cover for this fic can be seen here http://imageshack.us/a/img692/5557/r30c.jpg :)

The carriage rocked back and forth as it drove on the uneven road. Christine looked out of the window into the forest that surrounded them and not for the first time thought about where they were headed and what would wait for them there. She was accompanied by her father Gustave, the only parent she had ever known for her mother died giving birth to her. As an only child, she was cherished by her father and protected fiercely, which sometimes annoyed her.

Her father was the Earl of Baideanach, a small province south of the capital and king Charles deemed Baideanach one of his favourite provinces for it flourished under Gustave's care. That was why they were currently headed to the Alterwood Castle. Christine had been promised to the eldest son and successor of the King, prince Raoul. Besides Raoul, the King had one more son and two daughters, all of which were married and living in their own provinces. Christine and Raoul had once been playmates shortly one summer. She had been five and he had been ten at the time. That would make him twenty-five to date.

Normally women her age of twenty years were already married and had several children, but due to the overprotective nature of her father, she had never had the chance to be courted properly. Unbeknownst to him, her young heart of sixteen summers burned for a lad named George and she enjoyed the first stirrings of love as they met discreetly time and time again. Fooled by his whispered promises and words of love, she had allowed him to take her maidenhood and after that she had never seen him again. She had been heartbroken but masked it for the sake of her father, crying only in the privacy of her chambers. George had been her only regret and wished she had never met him.

Inwardly shaking herself from the unpleasant memories, Christine once again focused on the terrain outside. She knew Glayweth was a beautiful large province with picturesque terrain. Forests, rolling hills, cliffs overlooking the ocean, lakes, fields, plains and highlands all parts of the vast land. She could not wait to see everything again and commit to the memory what her younger self could not.

Her thoughts turned back to prince Raoul. She had always wanted to marry for love, that kind of love which she read about in her books of fair maidens and brave knights. However, she knew she could do much worse; at least she knew Raoul and at one point they had been friends as opposed to marrying someone she did not know or even disliked. When her father had come home with the news, she had wanted to argue. But he was genuinely excited by the King's proposal and she had not had the heart to oppose him. Christine knew he wanted the best for her, so she accepted, reconciled to her destiny to never fall in love on her own. True, she might even learn to love prince Raoul during their marriage and he could turn out to be the love of her life in the end. For the next two months they would be living at Alterwood, where Raoul will be able to court her properly and after that, they would get married.

Sighing, she focused again on the nature outside, pleasantly surprised they were out of the forest and taken aback by the sheer beauty of the vast expanse of land around them. The sun was shining, illuminating rolling hills, fields and lakes, sparse clouds floating in the sky and casting tiny shadows upon the ground below. This was different than home, Baideanach was made of mostly plains and the land was flat, but still she fell in love with her current surroundings.

"Don't worry, my dear. We will be there soon." Gustave spoke next to her, noting her sigh. Christine merely acknowledged his words with a nod and kept watching the scenery, wondering what awaited her at Alterwood. They had been travelling for two days, stopping at night in one of the inns by the road. The journey was long and tiring and despite the motions and sounds of the vehicle, she dozed off.

True to her father's word, it wasn't long before they passed the surrounding villages of Alterwood. Gustave woke her up then with a gentle shake.

"We are almost there, Christine." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to make herself look presentable and looked out of the window. The majestic Alterwood castle loomed at a nearby hill; it had been 15 years since she had last seen it and the sight of it now took her breath away. The drawbridge was lowered over the moat and the portcullis was already raised. Her heart picked up its beat in her chest as they drove into the courtyard, the driver signalling for the horses to stop. There was a slight commotion outside and then the door was opened. Her father left the carriage first before helping her out of the vehicle.

The large courtyard was mostly empty; groups of people watched their arrival from afar but her attention was held by a group of three men making their way from the main keep towards them.

"Gustave!" The tall grey-haired man greeted her father. King Charles was a warm, kind person yet strong, just and respectable. He was well liked by all people in his kingdom. Dressed in all finery and his gold crown, he displayed his power and royal blood.

"Your Majesty, it is good to see you again." They shook hands and smiled at one another like old friends. The king's gaze then fell on her and he smiled. "Your Majesty, please let me introduce you my daughter Christine." Christine smiled politely and gave a small curtsy.

"Your Majesty."

"I see your daughter has grown into a beautiful young woman. She takes after Charlotte no doubt." Christine fought a blush; while she had never known her mother, her father often told her with delight how like her mother she looked. "May I introduce you to my son, prince Raoul?" He gestured to his side and Christine looked at the man she was supposed to marry. His features were vaguely familiar but age had turned his chubby cheeks into well chiseled features. His eyes were blue and his hair light brown with blonde overtones, pulled back with a ribbon. He was dressed very much like his father in the finest fabrics. Her playmate had grown into a handsome nobleman, his soft smile and eyes exuding the same warmth as his father's.

"Your Highness." She made another curtsy and he chuckled.

"Call me Raoul, My Lady, we are betrothed. Besides, we have known each other since we were children."

"Very well, Raoul." She was not entirely comfortable addressing him as such so soon but let it slide. Her eyes slid from her betrothed to the tall man standing next to him. It was not hard to notice him for he wore all black clothing; black doublet with gold trim, black brocade breeches, hose and boots. His hair was raven and fell to his shoulders in mild waves, the top layer pulled back with a ribbon. His skin was slightly touched from the sun, his nose straight and he wore a short beard on the one side that she could see. What surprised her was the white half-mask covering the right side of his face. He stood tall and straight, his arms linked behind his back. He did not look too happy about being here but looked as if he resigned himself to this obligation. Much like her, if she were honest. Who was this man, dressed in finery that could rival that of Raoul's, holding himself like a nobleman?

"And this is my nephew, Marquis Erik of Craewen." As her father went to greet the Marquis, she took the opportunity to study him. He was very intriguing and almost mysterious with that mask. She wondered what it was made of and of course, what was it hiding? She knew some noblemen were rather eccentric but he did not seem the type to be just wearing the mask as some sort of accessory. When he turned to her and their eyes met, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were piercing green and if he turned his head just so, they would be almost blue with tiny flecks of gold. They held a a note of deep sadness in their gorgeous depths.

"My Lord." Giving another curtsy, she greeted him when she got her voice back and moistened her lips with her tongue.

"My Lady. A pleasure to meet you." His voice shook her to the core, deep, rich and soft as velvet, almost making her legs unsteady. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. A bolt of electricity shot from the spot he touched down her spine.

"We should get you situated, I am sure the journey was tiring." The King motioned for his servants to unload the carriage and bring their trunks inside the prepared chambers, while the stable-boys took care of the carriage and the horses. They followed the King inside and Christine could barely keep her eyes off the Marquis' back before he excused himself and departed from the group.


	2. The Marquis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've used the lyrics from 'The Old Ways' by Loreena McKennitt (go have a listen!), I don't own that song. In connection to this, I'm mentioning the mythological creature Selkie (Irish, Icelandic, Scottish folklore) as my own interpretation of the song. And I've also learned that women in middle ages more often than not rode astride as there were no proper or safe side saddles yet. End of boring talk, onto the story! :)

After Christine and her father had been accommodated in their respective chambers, they had met Anne, the housekeeper, and her daughter Meg, who worked as a maid in the castle. They were both very kind and welcomed them warmly, which made Christine feel more comfortable in the foreign place. Meg was close to her age, very lively and talkative and Christine wished to make a better acquaintance with the blonde woman, however unusual a friendship between a noblewoman and a servant would be.

They had rested until the King summoned them, telling them there would be a feast to celebrate their arrival. Both of them were slightly stunned by the monarch's decision but at the same time delighted. She found herself sitting at the table between Raoul and her father, her wide eyes taking everything in. People were having fun dancing and talking, the meal was delicious and the music was wonderful. She loved music in every form and was a decent harp player. She loved to sing as well, her father called her his songbird and often compared her to her mother Charlotte, who used to sing to him.

She had talked to Prince Raoul briefly but felt their conversation was a little bit awkward. She hoped that by the time they were officially betrothed, this initial embarrassment between them would be gone.

"Would you like to dance, my lady?" The prince's question surprised her but she gave her consent and he led her to the main dance area. The musician started a traditional dance music and Christine moved automatically. Her eyes scanned the crowds and the dancing couples around them. She had not seen Marquis of Craeven since he departed from their group. He was intriguing and she had hoped he would be here, so they could talk. She cast a glance at prince Raoul.

"Your cousin will not be joining us tonight?." Prince Raoul gave her a tiny wry smile.

"I'm afraid not, he is not one for the festivities. Erik prefers solitude rather than crowds." He led her expertly around and she matched his step with hers. "He is a good man, despite his somewhat gruff exterior." Christine smiled; Marquis Erik was indeed dark, mysterious and perhaps to some even intimidating figure. Prince Raoul's words only heightened her curiosity about the masked man and she wondered about the connection the two of them had. Were they close? Which side of the family did he come from? Suddenly, Christine felt guilty. She should make enquiries about her future husband and not his cousin. Thankfully prince Raoul did not seem offended as he smiled at her warmly and led her back to her seat as the dance ended.

At the table, her father and the King were deep in conversation and by the looks they were giving her, she was sure they were talking about her. As she neared them, she only heard her father say:

"My daughter has many talents. She sings beautifully. In fact, I am sure Christine would not mind sharing a song with all of you." She froze on the spot, her throat suddenly dry. She had never sung in front of so many people, what was her father thinking?

"That would be splendid. My lady, would you grace us with your song?" The King's eyes shone warmly and she felt the room spinning. What could she say to that? Declining was not an option but the prospect of singing made her feel extremely nervous. What if she was not good enough and her father only exaggerated her talent? Christine wanted to pick up her skirts and run and hide in her chambers.

"Christine?" She heard Raoul and felt his hand on her elbow, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"Of course, Your Majesty." She gave a polite curtsy even though her throat felt tight and her heart raced in her chest. She walked reluctantly towards the musicians, picking a song she loved, hoping it would add her confidence that she so desperately needed. She murmured her choice to the musicians and they started playing the introduction. She swallowed hard and started to sing, aware of every pair of eyes on her. Her voice trembled a little as she started but then she gained confidence and her voice soared across the large dining hall.

_"The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you.  
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you."_

_On a dark new year's night, on the west coast of Clare, I heard your voice singing,  
your eyes danced the song, your hands played the tune, t'was a vision before me_

_We left the music behind as the dance carried on, as we stole away to the seashore  
and smelt the brine, felt the wind in our hair and with sadness you paused"_

Christine felt eyes on her, which would not be unusual in itself since everyone was looking at her but she had never felt that sensation before nor she could explain it. Somebody was watching her intently and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her skin rise in gooseflesh. She scanned the crowd discreetly as she sang and her heart stuttered in her chest when she noticed a person standing half-hidden in the shadows in the corner just behind the king. A person she had not seen since earlier that day - Marquis Erik, leaning against the wall, casually holding a goblet. The masked half of his face was hidden in the shadows, while the light from the candles caressed the flawless half and glinted in his green eyes. His stare was a little bit unnerving but she continued with her song.

_"Suddenly I knew that you'd have to go, your world was not mine, your eyes told me so,  
yet it was there I felt the crossroads of time and I wondered why._

_As we cast our gaze on the tumbling sea, a vision came o'er me,  
of thundering hooves and beating wings in the clouds above._

_Turning to go, I heard you call out my name, you were like a bird in a cage, spreading its wings to fly,  
'The old ways are lost', you sang as you flew and I wondered why._

_The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you,  
the pounding sea is calling me home, home to you."_

As she finished, she was graced with an applause, which brought a smile to her face. She scanned the smiling crowd but was disappointed to see the Marquis gone. She went back to her seat and listened to the praise her father, the king and prince Raoul gave her.

The feast continued on after her singing solo in high spirits, she danced with her father and prince Raoul again. Needing some fresh air, Christine snuck out of the room onto the secluded balcony, inhaling the crisp night air. The stars twinkled brightly above her heads and she smiled, feeling peaceful as she closed her eyes.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Her eyes snapped open in surprise at the rich voice that came from the shadows behind her. She did not think to look around when she stepped out here, and had not expected someone to be there, least of all Marquis Erik. She turned and first saw the outline of a white mask and then he emerged from the shadows as if he were one with them.

"It is indeed." He came to stand beside her at the balustrade, still holding the goblet she had seen him with earlier. Looking up at him, he was watching their surroundings with keen eye. For some strange reason he fascinated her and she felt compelled to start a conversation, wanting to get to know him. "Will you not be joining us, my Lord?" Their eyes met and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"No. I am not one for large crowds. I only came here to listen to the music."

"Do you enjoy music, my Lord?" A smile played around Christine's mouth, hoping that they would find a common interest and something to talk about."

"I do indeed." There was a strange fondness in his voice, something she could relate to. She lightly fingered the small locket resting against her chest, her only link to her dear mother whom she had never known. Maybe the reason she loved music so much was her mother. Her father had always said that his wife had a wonderful voice and could coax beautiful melodies from the harp. Maybe music was what brought her closer to the deceased woman. She looked at the Marquis and found him watching her with curiosity. She felt herself flush, glad for the cover of the night to hide her flaming cheeks.

"It was my mother's." Christine explained hastily. "She loved music and I think I got it from her. She died giving birth to me." His eyes grew sad and she looked away to the distant fields and woods.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to bring up unhappy memories."

"Oh no, you didn't. It is just nice to talk with someone who appreciates music as much as I do." She cast him a glance and a tiny smile, embarrassed flush covering her cheeks once more. She hoped that he would mention her singing and wanted to know whether he enjoyed it or not. Silence stretched between them and she took it as a sign he did not like her singing. How foolish she was to expect something like that!

"Your singing is beautiful." He said suddenly and she nearly choked on her own saliva. "That is my favourite song. You perfectly captured the woman's inner conflict at loving a Selkie." Her heart thudded in her chest at his praise and she could hardly believe his words. Her most loved song was one of his favourites as well? She loved the tune and the poignant lyrics, telling of an impossible love between a woman and a mythical creature. Could it be possible that she had just glimpsed a side of the Marquis only few have known? She thanked him with a smile and they continued to stand there in silence, just taking in their surroundings and listening to the faint strains of music from the dining room.

* * *

The next day Christine was awoken by her father, who wished to explore the castle and the area around it. Of course they were allowed to roam the premises freely and Gustave wanted to get to know their new home a bit better. After breakfast they went to the stables to prepare their horses for the ride. To their surprise, they found Marquis Erik there, saddling a large black stallion, stroking the animal's snout with affection and whispering softly to the steed. Christine watched him with curiosity; he was very good with his horse and the animal was well behaved. The size of the horse slightly scared Christine for she had never seen such a large animal before.

The Marquis had not noticed them yet and she took the opportunity to watch him. Gone was the noble attire from yesterday; he wore a simple black tunic and black breeches with boots, his hair combed back and tamed with a ribbon. She recalled their last night's conversation with a smile. They had parted a few moments later with a quiet goodnight and Christine had spent a long time in her bed going over and over their conversation on the balcony before she fell asleep.

"Good morning, my Lord." Gustave alerted the other man to their presence and the Marquis turned in surprise.

"Good morning, my Lord." The man's eyes slid from her father to her and she fought a blush as their eyes met. "My Lady. A fine day for riding."

"Indeed. Christine and me would like to explore the area around the castle."

"If you would like, you can accompany me. There was a bad storm a couple of days ago, so I'm riding to the surrounding villages to make sure everything is alright and bringing some provisions, since many crops were destroyed."

"We would be delighted." Her father said enthusiastically and Christine smiled. While her father was an Earl, he was no stranger to hard work and manual labor and raised her in the same manner, so that if the time came, she would be able to provide for herself without needing servants. It was quite unusual for a member of nobility and even more so for a Marquis to take care of something like this personally.

They led their horses to the courtyard before mounting them. She noticed a few carts loaded with food and various other provisions and knights ready to depart at the Marquis' order. It wasn't long before they set out on their trip. She remained silent for the ride and only listened as her father conversed with Marquis Erik. She felt slightly embarrassed by her father's questioning but felt herself listening intently and observing the Marquis closely.

"Will you be returning to Craewen soon, my Lord?" She could see a slight twitch in his jaw as it tightened.

"Nay, Craewen has been a part of Alterwood for a long time, ever since my mother's death." She had not known the woman and known the Marquis for less than a full day, yet she felt a swell of sympathy for the man.

"I am sorry, my Lord." Marquis Erik just gave a little shrug.

"'Tis life, my Lord. We will all meet out maker, some sooner, some later." Christine could only agree, while it sounded rather harsh, it was true. A lot of knights died prematurely fighting for their country and the freedom of their people, mothers died in childbirth, never to witness their child growing up, starting their own life. She shook herself from those morbid thoughts as the men's conversation continued.

"Was your mother the king's sister?"

"Nay, my Lord. My father was the king's brother." Christine could tell the Marquis was a little uncomfortable with her father's questioning, so without catching the attention of the man in question, she discreetly signalled her father to stop with the topic. Thankfully moments later they were at the first village, closest to the castle. Marquis Erik leapt from his steed's back with surprising grace and noticing her father was helped to dismount his horse by one of the knights, he went over to her and helped her down. She felt his hands on her waist to steady her; it was nothing improper but she felt hyperaware of their closeness and his touch. He withdrew once he was sure she was standing firmly on the ground and left to talk with the villagers. She observed him as he interacted with the local people while her father introduced himself and her to the mayor. They even helped distribute the provisions to all of the residents.

When they were done, Christine looked for the Marquis if he was ready to move onto the next village. She couldn't see him anywhere and wondered where he had gone. Thumping sounds brought her over to the house she had seen right after they arrived; it was obvious its roof was badly damaged by the storm. Now as she peeked at the top, her eyebrows rose in surprise when she spotted the Marquis, helping some of the villagers fix the roof, telling them how to best prevent the damage should storm like this pass across the land again.

She watched him in awe as he climbed down the roof with an agility of a cat and made his way over them. Suddenly she had a feeling there was more to Marquis Erik than met the eye.


	3. Music

It had been a long but productive day. They had ridden long distance from village to village, meeting new people, giving them provisions. Some of the villagers even gave them gifts as a thank you. Christine smiled as she went over the events of the day, lying in her bed in her chambers. It was late at night, everyone had gone to bed and her only companion was silence and her thoughts that kept her awake. Even though her backside still hurt slightly from riding on the horse for so long, she would not have it any other way. She had got to know Marquis Erik a bit better, simply by observing his habits and the way he interacted with people.

It had been evident that he did not enjoy being the center of attention, instead chose to remain off to the side, making sure all the villagers got their provisions and if needed, lending out a helping hand repairing damaged structures. Christine had discovered that the Marquis had quite a temper as she watched a young knight being berated for not performing his duties. The mask combined with the scowl on the Marquis' face made him an intimidating figure, yet no one feared him but showed the utmost respect.

Christine sighed, turning over onto her back, trying to get comfortable. Why did she feel so drawn to the man? Prince Raoul did not spark her curiosity or the wish to get to know him better as much as Marquis Erik did. She sighed once more, pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Now that she was wide awake, she didn't feel like lying in her bed. Pulling on her dressing gown over her cotton nightwear, she left her chambers on quiet feet, intent to explore the castle. They had not had much time to get acquainted with their new home but now the opportunity presented itself. 

The halls were lit with torches, the floor was cold under her shoes and everything was silent. Christine surveyed her surroundings, studied various tapestries hanging on the walls, peeking into rooms that had their door opened. As she moved further and further from her own chambers, she realized she was in a different part of the castle. The lighting here was sparser, as if these parts weren't used as much. Dark corners made her wish she brought a candle with her but she didn't have time to dwell on that thought when a sound of music carried on the air from somewhere around her. It was faint but as she moved further, the music grew louder and louder. Curious, she followed the sound, not paying attention where she was or how to get back. As she neared, she identified the instrument that was being played - a harpsichord.

The melody was beautiful but haunting, it was a song she had never heard before. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame, she continued until she was standing in front of a partly opened door, a soft warm glow of a fire inviting her in. Christine peeked her head in just so she could see, not wanting to intrude or to make the music stop. What she saw took her completely by surprise; she saw the Marquis sitting on the stool, coaxing wonderful melodies from the harpsichord with ease. Lulled by the music, she didn't realize she moved further into the room until his fingers on the keys halted and his voice, deep and velvet, finally caught her attention.

"It is a bit late to wander through these corridors. Are you lost?"

"I could not sleep, so I decided to explore a little." She looked around the room; it was bathed in low light from the fire, tapestries hung from the stone walls, red carpets adorning the cold floor. Bookcases trimmed the perimeter of the room, a small reading corner that made her feel so comfortable just by looking at it. There were numerous musical instruments, some she had never seen before, and wondered whether he knew how to play them all. Realizing Marquis Erik was still looking at her awaiting her answer, she cleared her throat and licked her lips. "Can you play something? I really enjoy hearing your music."

His visible eyebrow rose but he consented with a small nod a few moments later. He rose from his seat and picked up a fiddle that was lying nearby. Before he touched the bow to the strings, he said softly:

"One song, then I will escort you to your chambers." Satisfied with seeing Christine nod, he went back to his seat and placed the instrument under his chin. Christine settled on a mahogany sofa, tucking her legs under her. Propping her arm on the armrest, she listened with rapt fascination as he brought the violin to life. She closed her eyes and let the soft melody lull her into sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Christine opened her eyes the following morning, she was momentarily confused as she gazed on the ceiling of her chambers. The last thing she remembered was sitting in Marquis Erik's music room but not getting back here. She stretched on her goose feather mattress, feeling happy and well rested. Pushing the covers off of her, she swung her legs to the side of her bed, noting she still had her nightgown on top of her nightclothes. Did the Marquis carry her sleeping form all the way back? Her cheeks slightly colored at the thought.

She cleaned herself up and dressed, getting ready for the day. Prince Raoul would have a break between the studies, so later they would meet and get to know each other better. She exited her chambers and went down the hall to join everyone for breakfast, when she saw the Marquis turn around a corner, heading in the same direction.

"My Lord." She called out and he halted his stride and turned around.

"My Lady." He slightly bowed his head and watched as she caught up with him. Christine discreetly observed him, hoping he did not taken offense after she had fallen asleep during his music playing last night. The visible side of his face seemed relaxed when he looked at her and asked. "May I escort you to the dining hall?" With a smile she gave him her consent and they walked in silence for a couple of minutes, Christine trying to avoid looking in his direction, the Marquis calmly looking straight forward, his hands linked behind his back. She could no longer stand the silence.

"I wanted to apologize, my Lord." She cast a sideways glance and saw his visible eyebrow rise in question. "I did not mean to fall asleep last night. Please do not take it as a reflection on your music. I really enjoy your music and do not find it boring." Blushing suddenly, she halted in her speech. The corner of his mouth lifted upwards in a rare smile, his visible eye crinkling in the corner with amusement.

"Nay, I did not take offense, my Lady. If anything, it was a reflection on how tired you actually were after such a long day." She nodded and chose not to ask how she got back to her chambers and into her bed. Now that they talked, she felt more comfortable and less tense, relieved he did not find her actions disrespectful. Soon they were at the entrance to the dining hall where they stopped and he turned to her.

"This is where we part. I bid you a good day, my Lady."

"Will you not be joining me for breakfast?" She almost let the disappointment cloud her voice but caught herself just in time.

"I already ate. I will, however, be seeing you at dinner." Happy with his answer, she nodded with a smile and watch him leave.

"My Lord?" She called out after a few moments of deliberation, breathing in deep as he turned and locked his eyes with hers. "Can I...will you play for me again?" The Marquis paused for a moment to think, then came with a reply that surprised her.

"Meet me in the music room after dinner." He bowed his head and headed to the direction of the courtyard. Christine smiled widely; she had something to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day passed slowly; she spent her day exploring her new home, introducing herself to the servants and knights she had not met before. They all welcomed her warmly even though they were busy with their chores. The castle itself was bustling with activity and she enjoyed watching the knights train, children playing, running around under the watchful gazed of their mothers, and all the activity that happened in the courtyard among ordinary people.

She was in the library when Prince Raoul found her later in the afternoon, observing Marquis Erik training with the knights, telling them how to correctly block the opponent's move. He moved with the agility of a cat, easily countering the knight's attack, their swords clashing with a metallic sound.

"My Lady?" She looked from the window to the Prince, giving him a small smile. Standing up from the window seat, she gave him a small curtsy.

"Your Highness." He smiled and walked over to her, shaking his head.

"I told you before, you may call me Raoul." He took her hand and led her back to the window seat, taking a spot next to her. "How was your day?"

"I have explored the castle, it is such a beautiful place. And everyone is very friendly." Prince Raoul chuckled and nodded his head. "I have done some reading as well. How was your day, Raoul?"

"Very busy and I apologize I could not find a moment to talk with you sooner. I have my studies, just today I had diplomacy and history. Very boring."

"It is necessary for a future king to know these things, so he can lead his country."

"Aye, that is true. However that is not what I wanted to talk to you about. How have you been? I have not seen you in what, fifteen years? Such a long time. You have grown into a beautiful woman, Christine."

"Thank you." She blushed and lowered her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. She looked up when he started speaking again.

"I remember the days when we were little, how your father told us tales of brave knights and princesses, dragons and treasures..." Aye, she remembered those times, but they were not children anymore. If they were to marry, she wished to know the adult and not dwell on their childhood. They talked more after that but soon the Prince excused himself.

"Father wants me to join him for a hunt. With any luck there will be venison for dinner today." He gave her a cheeky smile. "I enjoyed our conversation, Christine. Have a good day."

"You too, Raoul." She relaxed back in her seat and her gaze turned involuntarily back to the training below. She reflected on her conversation with Raoul; it was slightly awkward and uncomfortable for her, but she guessed it would get better the more they got to know each other.

 

* * *

 

True to Raoul's word, the cooks prepared a delicious venison for dinner. Christine sat at the dining table with her father beside her and observed other people around the table; Prince Raoul and the King were in an animated conversation about their earlier hunt, the other court officials talking among each other, and Marquis Erik on the other side of the table was deep in conversation with the king's chancellor. She was disappointed she could not speak with him during dinner but looked forward to their meeting in the music room afterwards.

After the dessert Christine saw the Marquis excuse himself from the table. She wanted to follow but was detained by the Prince and his father. As soon as she was able to, she excused herself as well and hurried upstairs to the music room. She found Marquis Erik sitting on the stool, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. What she did not expect was the other occupant in the room. A large dark grey irish wolfhound was lying by the Marquis' feet and upon seeing her enter, its head lifted and ears pricked forward in alert. She stood frozen in the doorway as the animal stood up, its majestic height making her slightly scared. Christine was taller than most women she knew but now she felt dwarfed by such a large dog as its head reached her waist. It sauntered over to her, its tail waggling excitedly and his tongue lolled to the side from its mouth. Her eyes widened when it came so very close to her but a strong 'sh' sound made the dog sit and then slowly lay down by her feet. Shocked at what just transpired, her gaze lifted to the man sitting nearby, now looking at her.

"You do not have to be afraid, my Lady. This is my dog, Apollo. You will not find a more lazy dog than this one." He gave her a wry smile and she looked down at the dog, which was looking up at her expectantly, his large tail waggling on the floor in a sweeping motion. She carefully crouched down, making sure her moves were slow so as not to startle the dog. 

"Hello, Apollo." Christine smiled at the dog and rose a tentative hand to his head, her fingers encountering rough fur. The waggling of his tail intensified as she scratched him behind his ears. Apollo gave only what she could describe as a moan and turned his large body over onto his back, exposing his belly. She chuckled and scratched his belly before she rose and sat at the sofa. Apollo followed and despite Marquis Erik's protests laid next to her, putting his head in her lap, watching his owner as if daring the man to make a comment. Christine laughed at the animals antics and caressed his head.

"I have never seen him warm up so quickly to anyone before, he must really like you." At the comment Apollo chose to gave a slight huff, which made Christine laugh even more. Glancing at the man, she noticed his lips were stretched in a small smile. It made him look so handsome and as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she averted her gaze and looked down at the sleeping dog in her lap. "What would you like to hear?"

"Can you please play the song you did last night? I promise not to fall asleep this time." Their eyes met and she smiled at him. He gave her a nod and gathered the fiddle, touching the bow to the strings and coaxing a beautiful melody from the instrument. Christine watched as he played, lost in his own world of music as he slightly swayed with the motion of the bow. He was fascinating to watch; he was a strong powerful man but handled the instrument in a very gentle manner. All too soon for her liking the song eased to its natural end.

"Would you like to hear more? Perhaps on the harpsichord?"

"I would like that." The Marquis sat behind the instrument and soon his fingers flew over the keys with ease.He played a multitude of compositions, all of which she had never heard before. His music sent her pulse racing with the song's intense notes, reached her heart with a mournful melody and then calmed her with a different song. Christine had no idea just simple music could move her so. When it ended he simply looked at her stunned form.

"That was beautiful, thank you." She breathed, then carefully rose from the sofa, trying not to awake the large dog sleeping across her lap, and moved to stand next to the harpsichord, running her hand over the carved decorations on its side. "Were all of these your compositions, my Lord? For I have never heard them before."

"Aye, I have composed a few."

"One day I would like to be able to play like that. I can only play the harp." She bit her lip, trying not to ask whether he would be willing to teach her. "Where do you get your inspiration, my Lord?" After a brief moment of contemplating, his reply stunned her.

"Life, my Lady." Such simple answer, yet with so many thought-provoking implications. She could understand that; life with its many ups and downs, profound human emotions, the quiet moments of solitude when one looked up at the night sky, the rustle of leaves under one's feet when autumn arrived to the lands...everything was his inspiration. In the Marquis she sensed a kindred spirit, maybe that was the reason why she has been so drawn to him since the very beginning. She watched him stand up and offer his hand to her.

"Come, my Lady. I have something to show you." The flames from the fireplace flickered in his eyes and she could not look away, almost spellbound by his gaze. There was no hesitation on her part as she placed her hand trustingly into his and let him lead her out of the room. His hand was larger than hers and warm upon her touch. She did not know where they were going but she trusted him, feeling safe in his presence despite having known him only for a few days. The castle was quiet which made her realize it was late; being with the Marquis in the music room and listening to him play erased her perception of time. They moved silently through the corridors, coming to a stop in front of a wooden door she had only passed during her exploration of the castle earlier. He dropped her hand to open the door and led her inside. 

The light from the torches illuminated several metal cages varying in size, holding various animals, all so beautiful. There were owls, a dove, a fox, a cat, a small cage with a few tiny hedgehogs, and a puppy dog. Upon closer inspections Christine saw that the animals had been injured at some point and some wore bandages. One of the owls had bandaged wing, the fox had a bandage on its tail and the dog and the cat seemed to have injured their paws. She turned wide eyes at the Marquis who was inspecting the baby hedgehogs, nodding to himself and then looking back at her. Was he taking care of all these animals?

"Their mother died." He gestured to the cage with the hedgehogs. "I'm taking care of them for the time being."

"Will you release them back to the wild?"

"Aye, when they are strong enough."

"What about the others?"

"Most humans don't appreciate nature and are being careless about their traps and fences.They don't care if other animals hurt themselves trying to escape traps not meant for them. Then even their pets can get hurt, as you can see." His gaze fell on the small puppy and cat who were watching him silently from their cages. The puppy's waggling tail as the Marquis neared him made her smile and the exuberant yips he let out when the man opened the door and picked him up only made her smile widen. The dog's fur was short and silvery, his eyes an unusual blue colour for a dog. The Marquis held the excited wriggling puppy up, allowing him to lick his jaw once. The display of affection warmed her heart. She reached out and gently stroked the animal's head and scratched lightly behind the ears as it calmed down in the Marquis' arms.

"Not only us humans suffer or feel happiness, the animals do too. And all that inspires me, my Lady. And if you wish, I can teach you how to play." Her breath caught at his tone, soft but rich, enveloping her in its warmth. He put the puppy down back into his cage, watching with a soft smile as it circled around a few times then laid down and fell promptly asleep. Christine watched him as he reached for pure white dove, inspecting its bandaged wing. The animal seemed calm in his hold as he showed it to her. She gently caressed the bird's head and neck with her index finger and bit her lower lip, avoiding looking into his eyes.

"You may call me Christine when we are alone, my Lord." There was a moment of complete silence and she dared to raise her eyes to his. He was taken aback by her bold request but gave her a small nod, the corner of his lips quirking upward.

"Then let me allow you the same courtesy. I am Erik." The green of his irises was so intense her heart started to beat quicker in her chest. What was it about this man?

_Erik._

She smiled.


	4. Forest

The weeks flew by and before Christine knew it, one month had passed since she and her father arrived to Alterwood. The castle and its surroundings were beginning to feel more like home to her. She met with Raoul on a semi-frequent basis and while she was a little disappointed that they did not have much in common, she tried her best to befriend him nevertheless and tried to find a common ground. As such, their conversations were still a little awkward, it was not unusual for them to just sit in silence and observe what was happening below them in the courtyard if they sat in the library or on one of the balconies along the main keep.

On the other hand she was delighted with her new friend Meg; she and her mother had been very kind to her and the young blonde woman's personality made her feel at ease. She did not have many friends while they were back in Baideanach, so to have someone like that so early on after their arrival made her happy. While friendships between common maids and nobility were basically unheard of, nor Christine or anyone else had any problem with it.

She kept herself busy during the day with various tasks such as embroidery, some reading and also her studies on what it entailed to be the wife of a future king. But when dusk fell, her heart sped up at what it implied - her music lessons with the Marquis. _Erik_. Christine loved the time when the castle's hustle and bustle slowly died down at this point of the day and everything was quiet with just the two of them tucked away in their little music world. Ever since that night when he first showed her his animal sanctuary, Erik had been her tutor for the harpsichord. To her surprise his offer had come with one condition; that she would sing to him. Christine readily accepted and each day looked forward to her lessons. 

She felt so comfortable around him and while music was what initially brought them together like this, they also enjoyed spending time in each other's presence, getting to know the other better. True, she talked more than him but he listened attentively, asking her relevant questions that sparked more debate between them. While Erik was reluctant to share his past, she had treasured the little he had told her of himself and about his travels, the interesting people he had met, the tales he had heard from the locals and what had enthralled her the most was his description of the ocean. She had never seen it but the way he had described it had made her want to go immediately. Her enthusiasm had brought a smile to his face, something she decided he had to do more often. While his smile was rare, it was not uncommon to hear her laughter floating out of the room at times.

Apollo had been a permanent fixture during their time together and when she hadn't been practicing on the harpsichord or standing beside the instrument to sing, his head would claim her lap once again on the sofa as he slept. Despite his size he was a very gentle dog with kind heart and in short time she came to love him dearly. His owner became her close friend, someone she could talk to about almost everything.

This morning Christine and her father joined the King for a ride in the woods. As she saddled her horse, she noted with surprise that Erik's horse was gone. She knew he loved to ride Cesar and the sense of freedom it gave him, especially in the morning when rarely anyone was up and the sun was just beginning to rise. She envied him and meant to ask him later if she could join him sometime. Christine didn't do much of riding in her life but Erik's passion for horses was infectious and she wanted to catch up on what she had missed.

Their ride was pretty much uneventful, if not a bit boring. Gustave and King Charles talked about Baideanach, the capital and their history, while she just listened without paying any real attention. They simply let their horses walk on the forest path but Christine craved some excitement, feeling the wind in her hair as the animal galloped through the beautiful forest.

"May I ride ahead?" She asked her father when the opportunity presented itself. He simply smiled at her.

"Of course, sweetheart. Be careful." After assuring them she would, she set the horse to motion in a lively trot. When she turned around the bend and could no longer see her companions, she urged to horse into a wild gallop, chuckling to herself as her pulse quickened in excitement. She slowed the horse down as they came to a crossroad; the left road curved back around the castle, the other led deeper into the woods. She could faintly see a clearing in the distance to her left and chose the direction to let her horse rest for a while. She rode on until she came to a thick bush barrier and paused when she heard strange sounds coming from behind the bushes. Christine stopped and listened carefully, realizing the sound was caused by a bow and an arrow hitting a practice target. Who would practice archery here outside of the practice range on the castle's grounds?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she directed her horse around the bushes, finding a way in. She had to duck under a few low hanging branches but finally came upon an entrance. What, or rather whom, she found took her by surprise; Marquis Erik was practicing archery on what seemed to be an old practice range. She watched him for a moment; he did not notice her yet and she took the opportunity to observe him and his skills. She noticed Cesar grazing nearby and Apollo lying in shade under a tree. The dog finally noticed her and raised his head, his ears forward. When he realized it was her, his tail waggled happily, flattening the grass under him. Erik noticed his dog's alert state and turned his head in her direction. Her breath caught when her eyes met the infinite green depths.

"Christine." The way her name rolled from his tongue made something in her stomach flutter and she swallowed before giving him a small smile. He set the bow down against the tree and walked to her direction. He was wearing a simple black tunic and breeches, his hair was tied back and he looked far from how she first saw him, dressed in all finery, although he held himself the same way. He approached them, giving a pat to the horse and motioning for Christine to dismount, steadying her with his hands on her waist as she did so.

"My father and I joined the King for a ride in the woods. It was rather boring, so I rode ahead." She answered his unspoken question and watched a ghost of a smile play around his lips. Apollo rose gracefully and trotted over to sit in front of her. Knowing what he wanted, she patted his head with affection and scratched behind his ears. Meanwhile Erik led her horse over to Cesar and left them grazing. Picking his bow back up he drew an arrow, shooting the target with precision.

"Why do you not practice within the castle's walls?"

"I find the archery range has been too crowded lately. I like the peace of this place. It used to belong to the castle before the new range was built." Christine knew he was not fond of crowds but saw how he would prefer this, being in the nature rather than surrounded by people and stone. A sudden thought came across her mind and she bit her lip.

"Do you want me to leave? I did not mean to interrupt." Another arrow struck the target dead in the middle. Erik turned to her, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

"You did not interrupt. I enjoy your presence, Christine." Her heart quickened at his reply and she moved closer to him, watching the play of his muscles on his shoulders as he drew the bowstring back and then released it. He gave her a look and noticed her curious gaze. "Would you like to try?" She bit her lip; she had always wanted to try archery but for some reason she had never been taught.

"I do not know how." She admitted, biting her lip. She had always wanted to try archery but for some reason she had never been taught.

"You have not been taught?" The visible side of his face showed surprise; it was common that noble ladies knew how to operate bow and arrow and Christine guessed that her father was simply protective of her and did not want her to get hurt.

"Nay."

"Then we must remedy the situation." He beckoned for her to come closer and on light feet she obeyed. He unbuckled a piece of leather from his forearm and she watched him curiously. "This is an arm guard, which protects you from injury when the string comes back. It is also good to contain loose clothing which could get caught in it. I noticed you are right-handed, therefore you need to wear this on your left arm, which will hold the bow." Erik explained and she held out her left arm for him. He fastened the leather around her forearm, then took off the leather glove on his right hand. "This will be a bit large for you but it will protect your fingers as you draw the string back." She put on the glove, noting the warmth left over from his hand.

He picked up the bow and she instantly felt a bit wary. He had noticed her apprehension and let a small smile touch his lips.

"Bows are made to fit the archer. I am afraid this is the only one I have right now but if you truly want to be taught on a regular basis, we will need to get you a shorter one. For now, let us just try this." He handed her the weapon; she had not expected it to be this heavy by the way he carried it, but she felt her left arm sink from the weight and if it weren't for his quick reflexes, the bow would have fallen on the ground. She was grateful he ignored her small mistake and this time she gripped the bow tightly.

Christine wordlessly followed his instructions; feet slightly apart, shoulders down and in straight line with the bow. Her left arm was trembling a bit but she managed to lift the bow and aim, all her focus was on what she was doing. Erik helped her place the arrow in the correct spot and she drew the string back and released it. The arrow made a pathetic downward curve a short distance from where she was standing. For some reason it greatly amused her and she started laughing. 

She heard his low chuckle and turned her head to the side, his eyes were shining with merriment.

"Let us try again. I will help you this time." She didn't know what he meant but felt him step close behind her. His left hand softly grasped her left elbow, anchoring her and making her hold on the bow strengthen. Christine was hyperaware of Erik's closeness; she could feel as his chest expanded into her back as he inhaled and felt his warm breath ruffle the hair at her temple as he exhaled. Even through clothing his touch made her skin tingle and the fluttery feeling in her stomach began anew as her heart sped up. She swallowed several times when his right hand covered hers on the bowstring, helping her draw it back. His body was a solid wall behind her and she held her breath when together they released the arrow and let it sail forward through the air. She closed her eyes momentarily before she heard the arrow struck the target. Opening them again, she was surprised the arrow was perfectly lodged in the centre of the target.

Filled with excitement, Christine turned around with a grin, not taking into account their close proximity. She stared up at Erik, the grin slowly fading as she looked up into his eyes. The sun shone above their heads, illuminating tiny golden flecks in his green orbs, making them even more enchanting. She was pressed against his strong form, her heart galloping in her chest at his intense gaze. Everything was quiet around them, except for the birds in the trees and the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

Somehow they met halfway, molding their lips against each other in a kiss that stole her breath away and made her knees weak. Unnoticed, the bow fell from her hand onto soft grass as his arm circled her waist and his other hand delved into her hair and gently held the nape of her neck. Her eyes drifted shut in pleasure; she had never felt like this, the sensual slide of his warm and surprisingly soft lips against hers awakened something inside her. The spark that existed between them since day one ignited into a flame. She could vaguely taste cinnamon from breakfast on his lips but her senses were overloaded as he slightly deepened the kiss. One of her hands came to rest upon his shoulder, the other one settled at the base of his throat, her fingertips brushing warm skin above his tunic. A tiny moan escaped between their lips; she wasn't sure whom it belonged to but did not care as it unfurled a strange heat in the pit of her stomach. She could feel the muscles of his torso as she pressed even closer to him, and this time a soft moan came from her. 

Awareness of the world around them returned with the sound of two voices coming closer to their location. For a moment they locked eyes before they stepped away from each other a respectful distance away just in time to see the King and her father enter the clearing on their horses.

"There you are, Christine. We wondered where you ended up." Her father smiled at her and she managed a smile back, steadfastly trying not to look in Marquis Erik's direction. Her lips still burned from their kiss and her skin was covered in goosebumps that were left in the wake of his touch. 

"I found Marquis Erik practicing. He showed me how to use the bow and arrow." Christine tried to suppress a blush but felt her cheeks getting hotter. 

"Thank you, my Lord. I am very grateful for I have never found the time to teach my daughter." She saw the Marquis only giving a nod from the corner of her eye and looking at her afterward. She unbuckled the leather arm guard strapped to her forearm and took off the leather glove, walking towards the Marquis to give him the items back. Their fingers brushed briefly and the shock of the contact made her look up at him, his eyes intense as they connected with hers. Her heart still did not cease the mad gallop and her blush deepened.

"Thank you for the lesson, my Lord." She said politely, ducked her head and went over to her horse, quickly mounting it and directing it towards her earlier companions.

"You are welcome, my Lady." His voice was calm and even, which ironically set her more on edge. She saw him lick his lips absentmindedly and averted her eyes. 

Erik bid all of them a good day and the three of them set out on the trek back to the castle. This time Christine did not even attempt to pretend paying attention as the King and her father conversed between themselves. She licked her lips discreetly, catching his taste on her bottom lip. 

The knowledge that she had a lesson with Marquis Erik later that day set her heart thundering in her chest once again.


	5. Calm before the storm

Christine was dismayed when she didn't see Marquis Erik at the dinner table that evening. She had to admit to being nervous just prior, the thought of seeing him again after their little encounter in the woods earlier that day caused a little fluttering in her stomach. She ate the delicious supper silently, a roasted chicken in a wine broth, and absentmindedly listened to the conversation around her. Her father conversed with the King and the other people around the table among themselves. Christine did not mind not being included, it was nice to keep to herself once in a while. She was also aware of the empty chair next to her; Prince Raoul's absence surprised her as well. 

After dinner she was thankfully not detained by more conversation, so she decided to go to the music room. She reasoned that Marquis Erik would have sent a messenger or tell her himself that their lesson was cancelled today. The door was partially open and lost in thought, she simply pushed them open and entered the room. Three pairs of eyes settled on her and she stopped dead in her tracks. One pair of eyes belonged to Apollo, who happily trotted over to her, his nose bumping her hand, trying to get her to scratch him behind his ears. The other two pairs of eyes belonged to the two men she didn't see at the dinner table; Marquis Erik and Prince Raoul, sitting at a chess table. 

"Oh, I-I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt." Raoul smiled at her, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

"Nay, you did not, Christine. We were almost finished anyway." He stood up and approached where she stood rooted by the door and took her hand. "Please come in." Christine willed her feet to move as he led her over to the sofa, where she had spent so many nights listening to Marquis Erik playing on his instruments. As was custom, once she was seated, Apollo hoisted his large frame on top of the furniture and laid his head in her lap. She chuckled lightly and scratched behind his ears, aware of the surprise in Prince Raoul's face but also too aware of a green gaze from the other occupant of the room who had not yet spoken. She could not bring herself to meet his eyes, her stomach fluttering wildly.

"We were talking about the upcoming tournament." Raoul said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. 

"Oh? I was not aware of that. How exciting!" 

"Aye it will be. We haven't had such event for about a year now. Christine, please help me persuade my cousin not to joust with Lord Hamilton." Christine looked up at Raoul and then at the Marquis, who was concentrating on his chess move.

"Lord Hamilton?" Raoul nodded.

"A very big burly frightening man. You will regret this, Erik." 

"I have not regretted anything in my life." The masked man said in a matter of fact tone, moving his black queen piece to block the opponent's king, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Checkmate." Prince Raoul sighed in mock exasperation.

"Next time I will win." He gave the Marquis a mock glare and Christine smothered a smile. She liked to see their easy banter, something she had never had the chance to witness before. "But surely everyone has at least one regret in their life. Would you not say so, Christine? What is your biggest regret?" Christine froze at the sudden turn in the conversation to her. Thankfully Raoul was not looking at her, so he completely missed her apprehensive look, but she could feel Erik's eyes on her. There was only one big regret in her life but how could she tell him like this? She opened her mouth to mumble an excuse but the Marquis quickly cut in, noting her unease.

"Cousin, we have been playing chess since you were ten. You haven't beaten me yet." 

"Touché." He grinned at his masked cousin and rose from his seat. "Christine, cousin, if you will excuse me, I am famished. I bid you goodnight." With one last look at them, Prince Raoul closed the door behind him, leaving the three remaining occupants sitting in silence. Christine released the breath she wasn't aware she was holding and relaxed into her seat.

"Would you like to play, my Lady?" The masked man said after a while, gesturing to the chess board, their eyes meeting for the first time that night. A delightful shiver ran up her spine and she swallowed several times to wet her suddenly dry throat.

"I would love to." Carefully extracting herself from the sleeping wolfhound, she padded over to the Marquis and sat down on the cushioned chair Prince Raoul had just vacated. Taking her white chess pieces one by one, she placed them on their rightful spots at the board. "Thank you." She blurted out but felt so grateful he had intervened at the right time nad hoping he knew what she was referring to. He looked up and studied her for a moment before he concentrated on the task of putting his black chess pieces where they belonged. Her eyes followed the movements of his hands, the very same hands that held her so gently to his body mere hours earlier. She fought a blush at the thought and instead concentrated on what he was saying.

"You are welcome. Although I loathe to think that a thing of past still affects you so."

"It is difficult, when that very same thing might affect your future." Christine bit her lip when he fixed her with a curious glance but did not say anything. Any other man would have tried to pry into her affairs by now, but Erik did not as he shuffled the last of his chess pieces to the board. She took in a deep breath to muster her courage. She needed to tell someone and she trusted Erik, for he was her closest friend. She started with her sordid tale, faltering slightly when his eyes rose to connect with hers but still she quietly continued, her gaze sliding to her hands resting limply in her lap. When she finished, she felt lighter, as if a great burden fell from her shoulders. She was afraid to meet his eyes, see the scorn and pity in them. She swallowed and bravely looked up.

Erik was watching her, his eyes running over her face. There was no judgement, no pity or disgust, he simply looked at her. She almost choked on the relief that flooded her and the tension left her shoulders.

"You should tell Raoul soon." Was all he said, his voice soft and even, caressing her ears and making her relax.

"Aye, I know." She nodded, biting her lip. "D-do you think he will mind?"

"Nay. Raoul is a reasonable man with a good head on his shoulders." He noted her slight nervousness and let a tiny smile grace his lips. "You needn't be afraid that he will go back to your father or the king. It is personal and no one else's business." He paused, the green of his eyes accentuated by the fire from the fireplace, the flames from the fireplace dancing in his orbs. "I will never betray your trust, Christine. Whatever you wish to impart me will stay between us." Grateful for his reassurance, she nodded weakly, her teeth still worrying her lower lip.

"Shall we?" He said at last, gesturing to the chess board. She smiled and made the first move.

 

* * *

 

It was a day like any other. Everyone was in high spirits, looking forward to the tournament held in three days time. Christine was amused to see all the excitement around her; everywhere she went around the castle, she heard conversations about the event and the following feast, gossip and even people betting on who would win the jousting competition. All the incessant chatter made her strangely tired, so in the afternoon she decided to get away from it for a while.

Saddling her white mare, she noticed Erik's horse was not in the stables and smiled to herself. Ever since that day at the old practice range, there had been some sort of tension between the two of them. It was not uncomfortable but rather new and somewhat exciting. Their friendship blossomed still, their evening meetings often lasting into late night as they talked about everything and nothing. Neither mentioned their kiss nor the conversation after Raoul left the music room.

Riding through the fields, she pondered what it was that made her feel so strange around the masked man. A certain look would made her catch her breath and her heart to double its pace, an accidental touch sending a thrill down her spine, causing goosebumps on her skin and her stomach to tighten. She shook herself from the thought and directed her horse towards a small secluded meadow. Pulling a blanket from the satchel fastened to the saddle, she laid it down onto the soft grass and secured the horse to a nearby tree. She laid on her back with one hand behind her head and the other resting over her stomach as she watched the clouds go by on the blue sky. She inhaled the smells of nature and smiled lightly at the distant chirping of a bird, soaking up the warmth from the sun tickling her skin. Her eyes closed as a tiny breeze passed over her, sighing in contentment. She briefly wondered what Marquis Erik was doing before falling asleep with a smile on her face.

A cold prickly feeling on her face woke her up about an hour later. Disoriented, she opened her eyes and gasped at the black clouds rolling above her head. Her face was pelted with tiny cold drops of water that started to come more frequent. Muttering an unladylike curse, she jumped on her feet, gathered the blanket and went over to the horse. A gust of wind made her shiver, so she quickly packed the blanket and untied her horse, wishing to get quickly to the castle.

Loud thunder rolled above her head as she rode and she cursed herself for making her journey far from the castle. She urged her mare into a gallop as the rain came down harder, drenching her to the bone, and hoped the animal wouldn't slip on the already muddy ground. She needed to find shelter fast, somewhere where she and her horse could be safe from the chilly wind and thunderstorm. A flash of lightning illuminated the castle barn and old stables and she almost cried with relief. The stable was not frequently used as there was a new one inside the castle's walls but the barn housed several animals like chickens, pigs and cows. Urging her horse to go faster, it took a few minutes to get there. She dismounted and quickly pushed open the old stable door, futilely shaking the water from her body. Finding enough hay for her horse to munch on in the stable stalls, she led the white horse to the stall and unsaddled it, brushing rain from the animal's skin with her hand.

For the first time Christine surveyed the inside of the building in all its entirety. It was not very large but it did not matter since it provided ample shelter from the storm. The lighting was very sparse, throwing most of the inside into shadow but she did not mind for it looked very comfortable. She was pleasantly surprised when her eyes spotted a hay loft. Hoping that the top would be drier and warmer than the bottom floor, she grabbed the blanket which was thankfully not soaked with water and climbed up the ladder, mindful of her heavy skirts. The loft had a pleasant thick layer of hay, so she spread the blanket there to sit upon. Thunder clapped somewhere in the distance and wind howled behind the wooden walls and she shivered unconsciously. Her clothes were uncomfortably clingy and cold against her skin and she wished she had the forethought to wrap the blanket around her instead. Judging the distance of the storm from the thunder and lightening, she figured she'd be here for a bit longer until the rain had lessened at least. 

A sudden creak of the stable door brought her out of her musings. Christine held her breath as she waited ducked behind the low wooden plank railing, wondering who would emerge from the shadows. She did not have to wait long; a dark figure led a large black horse inside, shutting the door behind them. A flash of white on the figure's face revealed the stranger's identity and set her heart thundering in her chest. Marquis Erik led Cesar to a stall, pausing briefly when he noticed Christine's mare.

"Christine?" He called out, surveying the space around him. She watched him through the gap of the railing; he was as drenched as she, the few strands of hair which escaped from its binding at the back of his head were dripping water and stuck to his face. The wet black tunic clung to his torso, revealing a wall of solid muscle that visibly flexed with his every move.

"Up here." She sat up straight and swallowed, meeting his eyes for the first time. A drop of rain slid down his masked cheek and she resisted following its path with her eyes. 

"Pray tell what are you doing here? 'Tis not a suitable weather for riding." The corner of his mouth quirked up as he teased her.

"I wanted to get away from the castle for the afternoon. I was caught unaware by the storm." She quirked an eyebrow and grinned down at him. "You seem to be suffering the same affliction, my lord." His smile widened and she marvelled at their easy banter as he went to secure Cesar in his stall, unsaddling the powerful equine with deft hands.

"I rode too far away to get back unscathed." He shook himself to get rid of the excess water from his body, running his hands through his hair several times.

"You should come up here, it is a bit warmer. And drier." He took the offered invitation and climbed up the ladder. Christine scooted a little bit further, making space for him on the blanket. Granted, the blanket nor the hay loft were overly large, so they ended up sitting next to each other, their shoulders brushing occasionally.

"How long do you think the storm will last?"

"Not long. These types of storms are very frequent at this time of the year here in the north. I would say no more than an hour." Christine only nodded silently. The cold and wetness from her clothes seeped through her bones and she forced herself not to shiver. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye; he was sitting leisurely next to her, leaning back on his hands, his long legs stretched and crossed in front of him. He seemed completely unperturbed by his wet clothing and the chill it must have given him.

"Are you not cold?" She asked incredulously, wishing she were as unaffected as he was.

"Nay, I'm fine." He looked at her and narrowed his eyes, noting her small, involuntary shivers. "But you are. That was not very thoughtful of me." Before she could utter a single word, he leapt down the hay loft, landing on the ground below with a soft thud. Christine watched him with curiosity as he rummaged through his saddle bag, pulling out a folded black fabric. He climbed up the ladder and unfolded the fabric; she could see it was his hooded cloak. She turned to face him, biting back the question that burned at the tip of her tongue. The masked man must have seen the question in her eyes for he replied, giving her almost sheepish smile and a tiny shrug.

"I always forget I have it in my saddle bag." He sat in front of her, unfolding the cloak and draping it around her shoulders. This brought them unexpectedly closer and she could feel his soft exhales fanning over her face, could see stray raindrops as they followed the contour of his adam's apple. She swallowed and tried to calm her racing heart, giving him a quiet thank you as her eyes met his. The attraction between them flared and she caught his eyes flick to her lips. She wanted him, _needed_ him to close the distance between them, kiss her again just like he had a mere week ago. Her own gaze strayed down to his full bottom lip, aching to feel it slide against her own.

Christine looked back up into his eyes just as lightning illuminated the inside of the barn through the gaps in the walls. Erik was no longer half hidden in shadow and the look in his eyes burned her to the core.


	6. Blazing fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used lyrics from a beautiful song 'Last Goodbye' by Celtic Legends in this chapter. I don't own anything.

**Previously:**  
 _"He sat in front of her, unfolding the cloak and draping it around her shoulders. This brought them unexpectedly closer and she could feel his soft exhales fanning over her face, could see stray raindrops as they followed the contour of his adam's apple. She swallowed and tried to calm her racing heart, giving him a quiet thank you as her eyes met his. The attraction between them flared and she caught his eyes flick to her lips. She wanted him, needed him to close the distance between them, kiss her again just like he had a mere week ago. Her own gaze strayed down to his full bottom lip, aching to feel it slide against her own._

_Christine looked back up into his eyes just as lightning illuminated the inside of the barn through the gaps in the walls. Erik was no longer half hidden in shadow and the look in his eyes burned her to the core."_

* * *

Christine almost moaned when their lips found each other at the same time, melding in a heated kiss as thunder rolled above their heads.

His lips were soft, warm and moist and tasted like rain. She laced her arms behind his back, feeling his hands travel from her waist up to her back in one scorching caress. Erik held her tenderly yet firmly, his hand cupped her nape and held her in place as he deepened the kiss. He knelt next to her, towering over her sitting form, and gently lowered them to the hay. She spread her legs automatically, inviting him to settle between them. She moaned when their bodies molded flush against each other.

Gone was the previous chill; her blood was like liquid fire, spilling warmth through her whole body at his touch. Abandoning her lips, he trailed his mouth across her jaw and down her neck, sucking at the tender rain soaked flesh, running his teeth gently across the column of her throat. She whimpered and clutched at his back, bunching up fistfuls of his black tunic, before sliding under the material to feel his naked skin of his back. He made a sound that sent a thrill up her spine and created a throbbing desire in her loins. Taking a hold of his tunic, she tugged it up and with his help over his head, tossing it somewhere to her left. Her fingertips trailed over his shoulders and down his back marvelling at his hidden strength in the taut cords of his muscles.

Her breath came in short gasps as he untied the laces at the front of her dress, his fingers curling around the edge, giving a firm yank until her breasts escaped the confines of her bodice, baring them to his scorching gaze. Their eyes met briefly and Christine could see the raw passion and hunger in his green orbs, her body giving a responding throb at the sight. Erik gently palmed one of her breasts, his thumb brushing against the hard peak of her nipple before his mouth descended on her twin mound, his tongue and teeth raking her sensitive flesh. Her loud moan was drowned out by the storm culminating above their heads, her short nails sank deep into the skin of his upper arms as his touch gained intensity. He let out a groan that made her tremble. Was this really happening? A soft bite on her lower lip assured her that it was indeed very real and she threaded her fingers in the wet strands of his hair, kneading his scalp as they kissed, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues. She squeezed her thighs around his hips, drawing out a pleasured groan from his lips.

Christine had never felt like this before, her previous experience had been nothing like this - there had been nervousness and apprehension. This time, no such feelings were present except for the ravenous need that threatened to tear her apart. She wanted to give Erik her body and soul and desired his in return. Their harsh breaths filled the space of the hayloft around them, the press of his hard muscular body against her soft curves making her mad with want. Their mouths and tongues mimicked what would come to pass if they let it. Light flashed behind her closed eyelids and a sudden deafening crack of thunder just outside the stables shocked them both apart. Erik looked down at her; she could not decipher the look in his eyes as the lightning outside continued, illuminating his face. She reached for him again and without hesitation he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her deeply, his fingers combing through her dark hair.

Her exposed nipples brushed sensually against the naked flesh of his torso, the sparse hair growing there tickling her skin. She wanted to feel all of him like that, skin on skin. Tracing her fingers down his chest, she smiled a little when she felt his stomach muscles quiver as she ventured lower. Pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth, she began unlacing his black breeches, feeling his sharp breaths ruffle the hair near her temple. Before she could push them down further enough, he took her wrists and gently but firmly placed them on each side of her head, silently telling her to stay put. Once again he claimed her lips; the urgency in his kiss matched her own as his hands ran down over her naked breasts down her sides to her hips. He pressed into her firmly, letting her feel his arousal and she arched against him with a wordless moan, searching for more. He found the hem of her skirts and began pulling them up swiftly, caressing her thighs and leaving a hot trail in his wake upon her bare flesh.

Christine was beyond ready when she felt her skirts bunched up all the way to her hips and she hooked one leg around Erik's hips to pull him closer to her. He explored her mouth thoroughly, leaving her dizzy and breathless, seduced by his unspoken promise. 

They both paused as they heard a strange noise coming from outside the stable. She watched Erik as he cocked his head towards the sound, waiting for it to come again. It did but this time it was much clearer; a cry of distress.

"Help!" 

Erik muttered a curse under his breath and withdrew away from her, making her feel instantly bereft of his touch and warmth. He quickly laced his breeches and reached for his tunic, while she tucked her skirts back down hastily and pulled up her bodice. Slightly out of breath she sat up and removed pieces of hay from her hair and watched as he began descending the ladder.

"Erik-" She paused as more panicked shouts came from outside, mingling with the sound of rain and thunder outside.

"Stay here, I will be back in a moment." He gave her a reassuring look, his stormy green eyes locking on hers and she was reminded of their passionate interlude mere moments earlier. She simply nodded and watched him ran out into the dark. With no idea what was going on outside, Christine grew worried the longer he left her alone in the stables and the more frequent the shouts outside became. She gathered the blanket and his cloak and went down the ladder on unsteady legs, shaking both to get rid of any strands of hay. She put on the cloak, protecting herself from the cold that seeped into her skin without his source of warmth. Multiple times she decided to go out to check what was happening but at the same time she dismissed those thoughts quickly. 

Suddenly the stable door opened again and Erik rushed in, surprised to see her clad in his dark cloak and standing not far away from the entrance. She swallowed hard and the visage in front of her; he looked exactly as the first time he had entered the stable, only now it seemed that the rain had intensified as rivulets of water dripped from his mask.

"Is everything okay?" She asked hesitantly and he shook his head.

"The lightning struck the old oak next to the barn. We need to get the animals out of there as soon as possible, the tree is on fire and on the verge of collapsing on top of the barn." To her confusion he quickly started saddling her horse. "I need you to ride back to the castle, take Cesar with you, and alert the guards, we need as many hands as possible."

"But I can help." He stopped and turned to her, grasping her upper arms firmly but not painfully.

"Nay Christine, it is too dangerous. The stable can catch on fire as well if the barn goes up in flames. I cannot risk your safety. Please return to the castle." The worry in his face and voice took her aback but she nodded in acquiesce. He helped her mount the horse and take Cesar's reigns as well, opening the stable double door to allow them to pass freely. She took off to the direction of the castle, looking back over her shoulder when an ominous crack filled the air. One of the large flaming branches broke and dropped onto the barn roof. Thankfully it did not collapse under its weight but the wooden building quickly started to catch on fire.

"Be careful." She whispered to the howling wind around her. It didn't take her long to arrive at the courtyard; she dismounted her horse quickly, almost falling down in her haste. 

"Christine!" She looked up to see Prince Raoul running her way, heavy rain soaking his fine clothing. "Are you alright?" Christine noticed as a strange looked passed across his face but dismissed it as a trick of a shadow. He motioned for the stable lad to take care of her mare and Cesar and steadied her with a hand on her elbow. Wide eyed, she grasped his forearms, her look imploring him.

"Raoul, the barn! It's on fire!"

"The one next to the old stables?" He questioned and she nodded hurriedly. 

"Please hurry, Erik is in there helping." He gave her arm a little squeeze before releasing her, nodding to the guards.

"Go inside, Christine. You need to change or you will catch your death." He smiled at her and she nodded, watching after him as they ran towards the affected area. Guilt flooded her at the thought of Prince Raoul; just a few minutes ago she had been all too willing to give her body to his cousin! SHe was unofficially betrothed to the Prince and there she was, falling in love with another man. She bit her lip at her inner admission; she had known for a while about her feelings. They were nothing like her childish infatuation with George four years ago; this was something on a deeper, more soulful level and it was more than a physical attraction. Her heart beat faster every time she saw him, her breath caught in her throat when he looked at her, her skin tingled wherever he touched her. She loved their conversations no matter the topic and marvelled at their mutual deep connection to music.

It was just her luck to love someone she could not marry.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Christine didn't see either Prince Raoul or Marquis Erik at the breakfast but the head guard of the castle briefed the King on last evening's incident. Apparently they had been able to save all of the animals after a couple of hours. They could not save the barn but the old stables remained intact. After that, the men had been exhausted so it was understandable they were not present at the breakfast table.

She was surprised when the King summoned both her and her father and Prince Raoul into his study after luncheon.

"Gustave, you and your daughter have been here for almost two months. I am not getting any younger and would like to have a successor sooner rather than later. Therefore I have decided to make the betrothal official. Lady Christine and Prince Raoul will be wed in three weeks time." Christine tensed and felt the blood drain from her face, hoping that no one noticed.

"Yes Father."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." She mumbled, wishing to be anywhere but there, standing beside her betrothed. Christine's father smiled and them both after the King dismissed them, but it did not bring her any comfort.

"Would you sit with me for a while, my Lady?" Raoul asked and after her nod led her to an open balcony overlooking the courtyard. They talked for a while about unimportant things, neither wanting to acknowledge the wedding or their betrothal. A wedding should be a joyous occasion but Christine mourned deeply. As the wife of the future king she had to be obedient and faithful until the day she died. Which meant she would never again feel Erik's lips on hers or the touch of his hand upon her flesh. How she wished the lightning hadn't struck the tree! She would have given herself to him yesterday but now she had to spend the rest of her life wondering how it could have been. 

She was brought out of her thoughts by Raoul looking at her in peculiar manner.

"Christine, I hope you don't find me bold but would you mind if I kissed you?" She swallowed nervously and some of her apprehension must have shown on her face for he smiled encouragingly. "You need not be scared, Christine, I will not hurt you. We should at least be familiar like this when the wedding comes, so it would not be too awkward." That brought a tiny smile to her lips as she imagine the groom and the bride fumbling awkwardly with their first kiss. She nodded slowly and watched as he leaned towards her. Internally she began to panic but steeled herself for the touch of his lips.

When it came, it was a very chaste kiss, a soft pressure against her own lips. Her back rigid and eyes open, she let him kiss her gently. If she glanced at the doorway, she would have seen a masked man pause, look in their direction and then walk away. When Raoul pulled away, she could breathe again and the panic subsided. She heard him clear his throat and then he looked at her.

"Well, that was rather awkward." He grinned, which made her burst out laughing. She was so glad she was not the only one who thought so. While kissing the prince had not been unpleasant in any way, he simply wasn't the man she wanted to kiss.

A sudden hustle and bustle under them captured their attention and they both looked down at the courtyard.

"What is it?"

"It is the royal messenger. He must have news for the King." They settled back onto the bench once the messenger disappeared into the castle. A few moments later a young squire came rushing in, apologizing profusely for the interruption.

"The king requires your presence in his study, Your Highness." Raoul nodded and stood, sending the squire away.

"I am sorry we have to cut this short. I will talk with you later." He smiled and left, leaving Christine to her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Christine did not see Prince Raoul, Marquis Erik nor the King at the supper. Earlier that day the Marquis sent her a note that their lesson would need to be postponed until tomorrow for he had important matters to take care of. Naturally, Christine worried whether he was simply avoiding her after what had happened in the stables but then she dismissed it. He was a very honorable man and would not treat her so no matter the circumstances. Truth be told, the dinner table seemed to be much emptier than she ever saw. A lot of the court officials were not present and the king's closest advisors were strangely absent as well. 

It was not until the next evening that she had seen all of them except the Marquis at supper, though many of them seemed rather tired and stressed. The King and Raoul had seem withdrawn as well and when she asked the Prince, he told her that everything was fine. So she decided to let the matter slide and enjoyed her meal. After all, she would be having a lesson with Erik shortly.

After dinner Christine padded on impatient feet to the music room. She found Erik sitting on a bench at the harpsichord, scratching Apollo's head. The dog sat obediently between the man's legs, an expression of pure bliss on his face; it was so very clear he loved his master. She could see Erik muttering something to the dog but she was too far away to hear any of it and smiled softly at the rare display of affection when the masked man bent and placed a kiss onto the dog's head. Never had she ever thought she would be jealous of a dog! Apollo's head lolled to the side as his master scratched him expertly, his tongue hanging out of his mouth comically. It was then that he spotted her, giving a soft huff. She learned early on that despite his size, Apollo rarely barked.

The masked man raised his head and when their eyes met, she was robbed of her breath once again. Memories of their passionate interlude in the barn flooded her mind and she had to fought the blush that rose to her cheeks. After being released, the dog trotted towards her and she understood his silent plea. Smiling, she scratched behind his ears just as Erik had done moments earlier. They did not talk as she settled on her customary spot on the sofa with Apollo's head in her lap. As Erik played, she noticed that his heart was not in it, which surprised her for he had always been so passionate and so entrancing when he played. His countenance was slightly melancholy and she wondered what had caused this change in demeanor.

After he finished playing on the harpsichord he just stared at the keys absentmindedly. She got up and touched his shoulder, getting his attention.

"Erik, is there something wrong?" His eyes rose to her and she saw the profound sadness in them. Her brow furrowed; what could have put such emotion into his eye? She wanted to take it all away and give him back the glint of happiness back.

"Nay, everything is fine." There was a slightly awkward pause between them before he gestured to the harpsichord. "Shall we?" Christine gave him a small nod and stood beside the instrument. He began playing, a sad little tune she recognized. On her cue, she began to sing.

_"Here we are, our time nearly over_  
 _we have loved golden dazzling days that_  
 _gave into the deep of night time, beautiful_  
 _secrets kept within our silent last goodbye"_

When he tangled his voice with hers at the third line, her eyes snapped to his face. She had never heard him sing before but the notes that escaped his lips were so pure and beautiful she wanted to weep. Their voices blended into perfection.

_"This is love, your eyes tell a story_  
 _one last look and then turn away_  
 _I start to guide you through the darkness my friend_  
 _hold the memory close until our last goodbye_

_Keep the flame alight until our last goodbye_  
 _love begins and ends illusion_  
 _the last goodbye"_

Her lesson ended not long after and Christine spent most of the night tossing and turning, wondering what it was that caused Erik such deep melancholy.

 

* * *

 

The next day everyone was in high spirits for the tournament begun that very morning. Christine found people's excitement infectious and she was looking forward to watching the games. Apparently Marquis Erik had not changed his mind regarding the jousting competition and would later by fighting against Lord Hamilton. She had not yet seen the man in question but she had heard rumours that he was vicious even during a competitive jousting.

Christine sat next to Raoul in the viewing stand, watching as knights prepared for their first joust. A mere week ago Raoul had been excited about the tournament but now his face was drawn and he seemed lost in thought. They watched a few knights as they jousted, their blunt lances cracking as they hit their targets. After a while Christine could not stand the silence between them.

"Raoul, is something wrong? Everyone has been acting very strange." The Prince looked at her, briefly closed his eyes and sighed.

"There is a war raging out there, Christine."

"A-a war?"

"Aye. The west province under siege from neighbouring country. They have violated our peace treaty and attacked."

"Oh." A look of distress spread over her face and she wondered what it meant for the rest of the country or her father's province."

"You don't have to be afraid, Christine. The war will not spread further than that. Alterwood, Baideanach and the other provinces are safe." Relieved, Christine nodded. "Thankfully, we are a lot stronger than them, so it will not take long for them to capitulate. However, war is war and lives will be lost." He frowned. "I have tried persuading him not to go, but he would not sway."

"Who?"

"Erik. He will be leading the soldiers into battle."


	7. This is goodbye

If Christine weren't sitting, she would have surely collapsed. Her world suddenly turned upside down and she did not understand anything anymore. Why would Erik go to war? He was a Marquis and the nobility very rarely went into war. What possessed him to even think about that option? 

"Why?" He voice shook a little with emotion she could not describe. Prince Raoul sighed and shrugged, his eyes never leaving the jousting in front of them.

"I do not know. Erik's reasons are his own. It is not the first time either; he has been to many wars during his lifetime. I'm just afraid that one day he will not come back." She swallowed hard, trying to get images of his broken, lifeless body out of her mind. "However, he is a great warrior, one of the best this country has. He strikes great fear and respect to his opponents, some call him ruthless but I know he would never kill an innocent. He will be victorious once again." Raoul's reassurance did not bring peace to Christine's mind. They watched the jousting in silence. Lord Hamilton was currently preparing for a joust with a young knight. From what she could see, the Lord was older than Erik, around his middle forties. His face was wrinkled and drawn in a permanent scowl. His horse seemed almost wild, tossing his head and snorting loudly. The flag dropped and the men urged their horses into a wild gallop. The young knight had no chance against the lord; his lance struck the target and unseated his opponent, making her gasp. The way Lord Hamilton charged at the young man unsettled her, it was so vicious. 

The lord competed against two more knights, unseating them easily with the same ruthlessness until a break for refreshment was announced. Christine took it as an opportunity to find Erik and confront him about his decision.

"If you will excuse me, I would like to go for a short walk." She said as she stood up.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" She gave him a reassuring smile.

"Nay but thank you for your offer. I will be back in a few moments." On quick feet she rushed to the clearing where a number of tents were raised for the knights and lords who wished to compete. She caught up with a young squire from the castle and asked directions to the Marquis' tent. She thanked him with a smile and with her heart in her throat, she set on. Biting her lip, she knocked on the wooden beam that propped one of the tent's walls and after hearing a soft 'enter', lifted the flap and stepped inside.

Erik's back was to her and she took a moment to admire the sight in front of her. Wearing a full plate armor except for his gauntlets and armet, he looked very imposing. Without the armour he was strong and muscular, with the extra covering he looked twice his size. Apollo was sprawled on a makeshift sofa, snoring happily away.

"I trust Cesar is ready, Thomas." He addressed without looking at the newcomer. She almost sighed out loud; the beauty of his voice never ceased to enthrall her. Erik turned at last, pulling on one gauntlet. Surprise flashed over his features when he found her standing there, her hands clasped in front of her. "My Lady." He gave her a little bow, pulling on the other glove. "How can I help you?" His calm demeanor made something inside her bubble with anger.

"Is it true?" She asked more forcefully than she intended. His visible eyebrow raised as he glanced at her questioningly. "You are going into war?" His eyes lowered and he turned away from her and she grew even more frustrated. "Why? The King already has more than a capable army."

"It has been ingrained in me to protect my country and its people. It's a matter of honor."

"What good will honor be when you're dead?" She glared at him, unable to contain her emotions. His face darkened in anger, his jaw was set and his mouth turned into a scowl.

"I can take care of myself." He growled. Christine was surprised by the intensity in his eyes; he had never looked at her with anything other than kindness and yes, dare she say, desire, so the angry fire in his eyes shook her yet she didn't fear him. "There is nothing holding me here, I will protect my country." A sudden anger flared through her and she hated herself for the pure selfishness she felt at his words. She wanted him to stay for her but he wasn't hers as she wasn't his.

"I see. Was I then a simple toy for you to play with to pass the time?" Her head and her heart raged at the words that were falling from her lips, knowing they were not true. His eyes softened, his whole countenance shed of all his previous anger.

"Nay, Christine. Please don't think that." The velvety sound of his voice caressed her ears as he said her name. She wanted to sink to her knees in front of him or lock him in an embrace and beg him not to leave. She did neither, just stood in front of him with her hands clasped in front of her. "I cannot stay." Erik stated with a finality and she almost didn't catch his soft murmur afterwards. "It would kill me."

Christine frowned, confused as to what he had meant, but did not ask for explanation nor did he offer one.

"W-when are you leaving?"

"The next morning after the feast." Her heart hammered in her chest; so little time, not even two days. The feast marked the end of the tournament on the morrow night. "I will be gone for about a month, maybe more. Of course, that means I will not be able to attend the wedding." At his mention of the wedding, she ceased to breathe. Ever since the King announced the date, she tried to push the event to the furthest recesses of her mind. She did not want to think about it or acknowledge it, hoping that by ignoring it, it would go away. How she wished she herself would not be able to attend! She knew it would not be possible. In three weeks time, she would be married to Prince Raoul and as his wife, she would not be able to welcome Erik home with a kiss on his lips.

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

"Erik-" Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a knock. Their eye contact was severed when Erik looked towards the entrance and bid the visitor to enter. It was that young squire, Thomas.

"My Lord, the break just ended. Cesar is prepared and they are waiting for you."

"Thank you." The young man bowed and ran out of the tent. Erik gave her a cursory glance before grabbing his armet, tucking it under his arm. "My Lady." He gave her a tiny bow and turned to leave. The flap closed behind him as he left, the stifling silence of the tent the only witness of a lone tear that fell down her cheek.

 

* * *

 

She stayed only long enough to calm herself down and went back to the viewing stand, sitting back next to the Prince. He only acknowledged her with a soft smile and watched nervously the preparations below. Lord Hamilton was seated atop his horse, his face twisted into an evil scowl. The sight of it made her shudder, so she averted her gaze and instead looked towards Erik, also sat on top of his horse, which was dressed in royal colors and family crest. 

She was not deaf to the whispers that floated from the neighbouring stands, although at the moment she wished she was. She did not recognize any of the people, so she knew they were not from the neighbouring villages. These people have come from other provinces to watch the tournament. Some of the gossip made her want to laugh at its ridiculousness, other was just simply vile and some made her think whether there was some truth in them.

"That beast needs to be killed. I hope Lord Hamilton will accomplish this today. Have you heard? The Marquis is ugly as sin under the mask. They say there is nothing but bone and few strips of flesh! Those who saw it either died from fright or by his own hand! He is a monster!"

"He is ruthless. Kills everything in his way, women, children, old people. Nobody is safe from him."

"I heard he drinks the blood of his victims and eats their flesh." A low growl next to Christine turned her attention away from the vile gossipers. She looked at Prince Raoul, whose expression was uncharacteristically drawn in silent fury.

"Please Christine, don't listen to them. The speak of what they don't have any idea about. I do not even know where half of these things come from. People will make up the most ridiculous stories about him. Of course for those of us who know him, those stories are just ludicrous fables." 

Christine nodded, feeling the same fury radiating from her towards the vicious telltales. How dare they say such vile things about the masked man? They did not know him! She wanted to give them piece of her mind but felt that she would only pour more fuel to their wagging tongues. So she sat, quietly fuming. She clearly remembered the day they had gone to help the neighbouring villages. Erik had been nothing but kind a courteous, even slightly shy under the villagers' praise and thanks. He did have a temper but she knew he could control it and snapped only when his patience was worn too thin. The mask was another matter. She barely even noticed it when they were together, to the point she almost blanked out its existence. It was not out of fear of what lay under, she just did not care. Her father had taught her to look into person's heart and not judge by outward appearances. Of course it was natural to wonder what it hid, but in the end it did not matter to her. 

She watched as Erik put on his armet and wondered whether the mask didn't hinder his vision or the way the piece of armor fit on his head. He did not seem to be uncomfortable and for a moment, his eyes locked with hers as he readied on his side of the track. Oh, how she wanted to give him a token of her favour! Yet, she could not and knew that he would not ask. She was not married yet but it would be highly inappropriate if they did so. She swallowed hard as he put the visor down, taking his lance from Thomas. Her heart thundered in her chest as the flag dropped and the two men charged against each other. Not wishing to see Erik get hurt like the young knight before him, she clenched her eyes shut, her hands clutching her dress in tight fists. Two loud cracking sounds permeated the air and she only braved to open her eyes once the audience clapped and cheered. Neither man was unseated, so the competition between them continued.

This time she kept her eyes open, her gaze riveted to the man on top of the black steed. Erik struck Lord Hamilton's target, his lance splintering against the man's shield. However, the Lord's lance managed to strike Erik's shield as well, but the angle nearly made him topple over, leaving the masked man leaning dangerously to the side in the saddle. Her gasp was drowned within the collective gasp that rose from the audience. Despite his predicament, Erik remained seated in his saddle, much to most of the audience's delight. Christine sighed in relief but could not shake the fear of him being injured in any way. Both opponents had two points, so the stakes were high. 

Lord Hamilton seemed to be a little nervous, his horse was tossing his head wildly around, his hooves digging in the dirt. On the other side and in a complete contrast, Erik and Cesar were both calm; it was eerie to watch. Once more the flag was dropped and they charged at each other. Christine leaned forward and almost rose from her seat in anticipation, her lips moving ever so slightly in a fervent prayer. To her astonishment, Lord Hamilton's lance missed its target, but Erik held his steadfast as it collided with Lord's shield, the impact unseating the older man. Relief flooded her whole being and she sunk back into her chair amidst the cheer of the audience, feeling she could breathe a little easier.

Erik removed his helmet and she could see how winded he actually was from the previous impacts of Lord Hamilton's lance. Otherwise he seemed unharmed as he led Cesar in a circle as was the winner's custom. He looked up and their eyes met. She gave him a little smile and hoped he knew he had won her favour nevertheless.

* * *

 

The next day the tournament continued with other melee activities, such as Pas d'armes or Melee a cheval. Christine was glad Erik did not compete in these activities, for she did not know if she could withstand such anxiety again. She had not spoken to him since yesterday and when the feast came around in the evening, she was beginning to grow worried. Prince Raoul assured her that the masked man was simply resting before he had to leave in the morning. 

The feast carried on in a lively manner, people laughing, dancing, drinking and eating delicious foods. When the King asked her to graced them with a song again, she felt nervous. Not nearly as nervous as she had been the very first time, for Erik's quiet enjoyment of her singing raised her confidence. She sighed and wished he were there to hear her, see her. Giving her song to the musicians, she stood tall and proud as she started to sing.

_"The road now leads onward as far as can be  
Winding lanes and hedgerows in threes  
By purple mountains round every bend  
All roads lead to you, there is no journey's end_

_Here is my heart, I give it to you  
Take me with you across this land  
These are my dreams, so simple and few  
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands_

_The road now leads onward, I know not where  
I feel in my heart that you will be there  
Whenever a storm comes, whatever our fears  
The journey goes on as your love ever nears_

_Here is my heart, I give it to you  
Take me with you across this land  
These are my dreams, so simple and few  
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands"_

Applause rose throughout the dining hall and she smiled to herself, feeling peaceful and relaxed. She saw Prince Raoul approach her with a smile on his face as he complimented her singing.

"Would you care to dance, my Lady?" Christine graciously accepted with a smile and a nod of her head and soon they were swept in the rhythm of the music. The dance came to a close a few moments later and they waited for the musicians to start a new song.

"Cousin." A deep, soft, velvety voice came from behind her and she saw Raoul's eyes flicker over her shoulder, a small smile spreading on his face. The voice sent a shiver down her spine and she bit her lip, turning slightly to face the newcomer. "May I cut in?"

"Most certainly, cousin. That is, if the lady permits." 

"My Lady, would you honor me with a dance?" She finally looked up into Erik's eyes, finding herself breathless once again. She gave him her consent without hesitation and placed her hand trustingly into his. His skin was warm and his fingers tightened around hers as he led her through the steps. Every now and then they invaded each other's space and in one such moment, his breath ruffled the hair at her forehead as he murmured softly to her, so only she could hear.

"You sang beautifully tonight." 

"Thank you." She flushed under his intense gaze but was happy to know he had been there when she sang, even though she could not see him. She had almost forgot he stayed away from large festivities but came to listen to the music. All too soon for her liking the dance ended and she felt her heart flutter madly when he kissed the back of her hand. He led her back to her chair, bowed and before she could say anything, disappeared into the crowds. 

The feast was beginning to dwindle down a couple of hours later and Christine decided to seek the elusive Marquis out. She had to see him alone before he left in the morning. She bumped into Meg on her way from the dining hall.

"Meg, have you seen the Marquis recently?"

"Aye, my Lady. He was heading for the stables a few moments ago." Christine thanked the young woman, realization sinking in. She left Meg to do her work and once she was out of sight, she picked up her skirts and ran, her instincts urging her faster until she reached her destination. She found him in the stables, wearing his full plate armour, reading Cesar for a journey. Her heart leapt into her throat at the realization that this was really happening, he was going to leave. Not tomorrow morning but now, under the covers of the night. She was not ready for a goodbye and doubted she would ever be; be it tonight, tomorrow or in a week's time.

"Are you going to leave without saying goodbye?" She spoke up to get his attention, trying not to let her voice cloud with emotion. The surprise on his face as he spun around told her he had not anticipated anyone to come across his silent departure.

"Me and a small group of soldiers are leaving earlier to scout the area." They both knew it was not really an answer to her question. Erik turned to pick up his sword, fastening it to the sword belt. 

"Were you _ever_ planning to say goodbye?" His movements ceased but he did not answer, did not have to. Christine heaved a sad sigh; she had no idea what to say other than beg him not to leave. He turned back to face her and for a few silent moments they just stood there, several feet apart, staring at each other in the dim lightening of the stables. His shoulders seemed to sag under the plate armor as he sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground before turning from her and reaching for his gorget. Before he could put it over his head, Christine stopped him.

"Erik, wait." Gorget in hands, he simply looked at her and did as she asked. Biting her lower lip, she shortened the distance between them and stared up into his eyes. There was a sadness that mirrored her own. Reaching under her hair at the back of her neck, she pulled her necklace over her head. Standing on tiptoes, Christine gently put the jewelry over his head, mindful of his mask. His eyes widened when he saw the circular pendant on the end of it.

"Christine, I cannot accept this. It was your mother's-" She silenced him with a slight shake of her head and a touch upon the pendant that now rested against his armored chest. 

"I wanted you to have it. It is for luck." She gently took the small object in her fingers and tucked it safely behind Erik's cuirass, lifting her lashes to look at him. There was something unfamiliar in his expression, something she had not before seen; it sent a shiver down her spine and her heart beat furiously against her rib cage. The soft, velvety whisper of her name from his lips nearly crumbled her resolve not to cry but when his head dipped down, she met him halfway, standing on her toes to catch the taste of his lips. He gripped her tight around the waist and within this steel embrace she felt so safe like never before as she returned his kiss. She felt such a joy of living being in his arms but the reality soon wormed back into her mind; this was their very last kiss for when he returned, she would be married to his cousin. Her throat closed up with tears at the thought of never being in his embrace like this ever again. A little whimper escaped in the minute space between their lips and to her dismay he drew back, looking at her in worry.

"Please do not cry, Christine." Erik pulled off one gauntlet and gently brushed away the stray tear that escaped her eye with the tips of his fingers. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, feeling as he cupped her cheek momentarily. "I will be back." Christine only silently nodded, missing his warmth as he moved away, putting on the rest of his armor and pulling himself into Cesar's saddle.

"Farewell, Christine." He said softly, watching her for a long moment before urging the horse onwards, disappearing into the darkness.

"Goodbye, Erik." She whispered to the night air, straining to see his silhouette in the pitch blackness with no success. Swallowing the knot in her throat and refusing to cry, she went back to the castle, wandering its halls for long moments. 

Christine passed by Erik's chambers, smiling at the lying form of Apollo, who was curled in a ball in front of the door as was his custom. Her chest constricted with sadness at the sight, so she gently woke him up. His happiness at seeing her brought a smile to her face despite her inner turmoil and she decided to take him into her chambers. They both needed each other's company now that Erik was gone. Once in her chambers, she dressed into her nightwear and settled in her bed, while Apollo lay next to her on the ground. She let her hand drop from the side and caress the dog's coarse fur absentmindedly as sleep eluded her until the early hours of the morning.

 

* * *

 

That night was not the only one when Christine could not find comfort in sleep; for the next two weeks her sleeping patterns changed drastically. She roamed the hallways like a ghost each night when she couldn't sleep, Apollo following her like a shadow everywhere she went. Nobody else seemed to notice her distracted mind for which she was thankful. It was not unusual for her to wake up from a nightmare, images of Erik's broken body filling her mind. At nights like these she would sit on her window seat and look down onto the courtyard and over the castle's walls. The dog seemed to sense whenever she needed a distraction and usually nuzzled her hand to get her to scratch behind his ears. His antics made her smile and she welcomed the brief respite from her troubled thoughts.

Despite Erik's absence she still continued her harpsichord lessons with Apollo lying by her feet. It felt different and strange and often times she would just sit at the bench in silence, staring on the keys or into the musical scores littered on its surface.

Tonight was different than the rest, maybe because there were only a few days left before her wedding to Prince Raoul. Perhaps all those sleepless nights had finally caught up with her. She yawned into her hand and crawled under the covers, sleep claiming her almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.

It was later when she woke up, but she couldn't tell what time it was or what is was that woke her up. She listened for a moment and heard footsteps stop just outside her bedchambers. Trembling with fear, she drew the covers t her chin, her eyes wide and darting around the darkened corners of her room. She nearly gave a cry when she heard her door open and then close. She could see a dark silhouette of a man that entered and she held her breath. The figure knelt down next to her bed and the candle on her nightstand illuminated a familiar white mask. 

She gasped and let go of the covers, launching herself against Erik and holding on tight. She felt him chuckle slightly and she drew back, raising a hand to caress his uncovered cheek.

"Is it really you?" She whispered, almost afraid to raise her voice. His eyes were soft and the flame danced in the twin green orbs as he smiled.

"Aye, my love. I told you I would return." She felt physically weak from the relief that flooded her and slumped back on the bed. Christine felt the mattress dip under his weight as he sat down, leaning over her, his breath fanning her face. She arched against him, seeking his lips which he happily provided. 

"How are you here? Is the war over? So soon?" She marvelled at the chuckle that came from his lips again and the adoration she saw in his eyes.

"Patience, my sweet. Yes we won. I needed to be close to you, so I rode ahead as soon as it ended." She smiled at him and captured his lips again, sneaking her tongue into his mouth to explore. His groan made her spine tingle and she pulled him close so that he lay on top of her. 

"Erik, please make love to me." She mewled out, arching against him in need. All thoughts of her impending marriage fled her mind and all she wanted was to give her body to only this man. He smiled at her and took possession of her lips briefly before drawing slightly away.

"Close your eyes, my love." She smiled at him coyly but did what he asked. 

A cold breeze drifted across her heated skin and she shivered, opening her eyes. The disappointment weighed heavily on her - it was just another dream. Erik was not back, the war was not won and she was alone in her chambers, Apollo snoring on the ground next to her bed. She threw the covers away and walked over to sat on the window seat. She did not know which was worse, the nightmares of Erik being injured and dying or the pleasurable dreams of his touch upon her skin. Apollo awoke when he heard her get up, lifted his majestic height and trotted over to her, sitting down next to her, his intelligent sad eyes resting on her face. She had a feeling he knew exactly what was troubling her for he gave a couple of whining cries. 

"I miss him too." She whispered to the dog, caressing his head. It would be a long time until she fell asleep again.

 

* * *

 

Despite her lack of sleep the night before, Christine felt quite refreshed and relaxed. She decided to venture down to the dining hall to join everyone for breakfast. She cleaned herself up and dressed and set out to find some food. As she neared the dining hall, she noticed an unusual somber mood hanging in the air but shrugged it off and continued.

She spotted Anne and Meg walking in her direction. The young woman seemed to be supporting her mother and as she looked closely, she had noticed the good housekeeper was very distraught, even crying. Christine had never seen the woman so overcome with emotion, she always seemed to be very strict yet kind. As she passed them by, Meg lifted her head and watched Christine with sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Christine." She mumbled before lowering her gaze and leading her mother away. Confused, Christine swallowed hard, her stomach tied into knots. What had happened? She quickened her steps until she stood on the threshold of the dining room, taking in the scene.

Her father was standing off to the side, a solemn expression on his face. The King sat at the head of the table, visibly stricken. What shocked her the most were the tears that streamed down Raoul's cheeks, the naked grief visible on his face. Panic took hold of her and it was then she noticed one of the king's soldiers standing by the monarch's side.

Reality crumbled around her when she saw the bloodied white half mask in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry. But by now you should know me - I love my cliffhangers.
> 
> A few terms that need to be explained:
> 
> armet - type of helmet  
> Pas d'armes, Melee a cheval - types of melee combat on medieval tournaments  
> cuirass - better known as chest plate  
> gorget - a piece of plate armor designed to protect the neck and clavicle area
> 
> Lyrics come from Loreena McKennit's song Neverending road. Lovely song, I urge you to have a listen. :) I don't own anything.


	8. Mourning

Christine ran. Heedless of what was happening around her, she simply turned on her heel, picked up her skirts and ran down the hallway she just came from, her footfalls loud against the stone walls. She did not care where she was going, she just knew she couldn't be in the castle anymore. Rounding a corner, she bumped into one of the king's guards, nearly toppling him over but she did not stop to apologize nor did he call after her. The closed front doors did not hinder her, she simply pushed them open with all her might and ran across the courtyard, drawing curious looks but no one attempted to stop her. She ran past the portcullis, over the drawbridge and past the old stables and charred remains of the barn into the fields around the castle. Her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears and her chest was heaving with her effort.

She stumbled and tripped with a cry, landing on her hands and knees among beautiful wildflowers. The sun was shining brightly, birds were chirping in the trees and a soft breeze rustled her hair. Christine did not notice any of those things. A scream of anguish tore through her chest and she broke down completely, loud wailing sobs mourning the death of the man she loved. There was no other thought in her mind, only the harsh truth.

Erik was dead.

She did not give any thought to the passing of time, had no idea how long she lay there curled into a ball with her hands dirty and scraped from the soil, her sobs sometimes unrecognizable from a cry of a wounded animal. She could not stop her tears from falling. Clenching her eyes shut had been a mistake; all she could see was Erik's face and the memories she had of him. Her chest felt small and constricted and every breath felt like a huge effort. After a while her sobs quieted and only silent tears streamed from her eyes. She gazed unseeing at the blades of grass next to her face. Nothing seemed to make sense, the things that once brought a smile to her face ceased to do so. Why were the birds chirping so happily? Why was the sun shining so brightly? Why the rest of the world seemed to go on as nothing had ever happened? Greatly distressed by her thoughts, she slipped into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

When Christine next awoke, she was in her chambers. Her head ached and her face felt hot but she thought that maybe it had been all a bad dream. She felt a presence with her and turned her head to look around and spotted her father sitting in a chair near her bed. When he saw her awake, he smiled.

"I'm glad you are awake, my dear. You gave us quite a scare."

"What happened?" Her tongue felt dry and her voice was raspy, so her father helped her sip some water from a goblet. The liquid soothed her throat and she felt instantly better.

"Prince Raoul said you fell and hit your head. He brought you back to your chambers. Meg undressed you to your nightclothes and took care of your scraped hands." Christine swallowed and nodded, tears prickling her eyes. "You should stay in bed for a couple of days to rest. There is no reason for you to stress yourself, since the wedding has been postponed."

"Postponed?"

"Aye." Gustave's countenance changed, his eyes clouding with sadness. He continued, unaware that each of his words felt like a dagger through his daughter's heart. "The Marquis died in a battle and they are retrieving his body from the battlefield. It would not be right to have an event like this when such tragedy occurred." Christine turned on her side and nodded, closing her eyes so he could not see the tears clouding them. "I will leave you to your rest now." He stood from the chair, bent to kiss her on the forehead and then turned to leave.

"Father?"

"Aye, my dear?"

"Can you bring in Apollo, please?" She asked in a small voice. Her father smiled a bit in surprise and opened the door, urging the dog in before leaving her chambers. Apollo was obviously glad to see her, his long tail wagging excitedly. He licked her hand and laid down next to her bed. Her heart felt heavy, her mind swirling with thoughts. Why did the Prince lie to her father? She had not hit her head and considering it was still morning when she looked at the sunlight streaming through her windows, she knew she had not lain in the field for too long. Had he seen her leave? She sighed and decided there would be time for answers later.

Her hand reached over the side of her bed and she petted the Apollo's head. Was the dog aware that his master had died? It was said animals had some sort of a sixth sense and she wondered whether he knew that Erik was not coming home. The thought was so upsetting that she succumbed to tears again, muffling her sobs into her pillow. Her heart could not withstand such torment, what was she to do now? She had resigned herself to the fact that she would the Raoul's wife but at least she would see Erik everyday in the castle. Such thing would not be possible now. She would not see him again, his eyes, his rare smile and there would be no beautiful music drifting down the castle's halls.

 

* * *

 

Christine stayed in bed for the rest of the day and half of the next, only rising when Meg brought her light luncheon to her room. The maid knew she had little appetite but still brought her something, so she would not starve. Christine sat in her window seat, her eyes fixated on the black flag that was raised on the tower she could see from her window. It reminded her that Erik's death was very real and not just a figment of her imagination. It hurt to set her eyes on the proof, yet she could not stop looking at it. There was a knock on the door and Meg's sweet voice announcing her presence.

"Come in." The maid opened the door, carrying a tray with a little snack and a goblet of apple cider, nearly tripping over snoring Apollo as she put the tray on the small table.. 

"I have brought you some sweetened bread and apple cider. I know they are your favourite."

"Thank you, Meg." Christine gave her a genuine little smile. She recalled how distressed Anne seemed to be that fateful day. "How is your mother?" Meg looked down at her hands.

"Better, at least she seems to be. I know it has been hard on her, she and the Marquis were close." This surprised Christine but before she could ask, the maid continued on her own. "She was ten summers when the Marquis was born and was sent with his mother and the babe to Craewen. She looked after him from time to time as he grew up and despite the age gap they had become friends, then he was the one looking after her when she became of age to marry, battling away unworthy suitors. He was strong and intimidating despite his age, so many suitors ran. Mama was thankful to the Marquis and when she met my father, the Marquis was happy with her choice." Meg smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. Christine smiled at the imagery, a ten year old boy intimidating twice as old men to find the one worthy of his friend's affections. "He was a good brave man, and I always thought he did not deserve all the lies and slander told about him. He will be missed by many." Christine swallowed hard a couple of times and turned her gaze to the courtyard below, so that Meg would not see the tears that sprung to her eyes.

However Meg noticed her sudden sad disposition and cursed herself for opening her mouth. She had not meant to upset the Lady, yet she knew how close the Marquis and were. She had often heard Lady Christine's delighted laughter coming from the music room and several times found them deeply in conversation in the library or one of the balconies. She never told anyone what she had seen the night the Marquis left for the war and her romantic heart swelled when she realized the Marquis found love. Yet she was saddened that it had been doomed from the start with Lady Christine betrothed to the Prince. Maybe that was why the Marquis insisted on going to battle, so that he did not have to watch as his beloved got married to his cousin. Her heart ached for the two people who would never find happiness with each other.

"My Lady, I forgot to mention that Prince Raoul would like to talk to you."

"You can tell him I will be at the bench near the old stables in one hour's time."

"Very well, my Lady." Meg turned on her heel and exited the chambers, leaving Christine to her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Christine sat at the bench near the old stables and the charred ruins of the barn, overlooking the valley, the fields and forests below. She didn't let her eyes stray towards the barn for the memory of short bliss in Erik's arms at the very place caused her unbearable pain. Instead she looked into the distance as she waited for Prince Raoul. The sun never stopped shining for the last two days and she wondered how the world could carry on living when she was feeling so dead inside. She was shaken from her morbid thoughts with Raoul's arrival. He took a seat next to her and for the first time in days she took a good look at him. His face was drawn, his boyish features transformed to those of a man who grieved deeply.

"I hope you are feeling better, Christine."

"I am, thank you." Her lie did not seem to convince him but she was glad he let it slide.

"I noticed you that day and saw you leave, I wanted to make sure you were alright. And don't worry, I was the only one who knew of your presence." Christine nodded and looked at her hands folded in her laps. She heard Raoul sigh heavily and then gave a slight chuckle. "This is difficult." Not knowing what he meant, she looked up at him questioningly.

"I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you." He paused, seeing the confusion on her face. "Christine, I-I know that you loved him." She quickly looked away, guilt creeping into her whole being. "I have always suspected but only knew the moment I saw you kissing just before he left." She pressed a hand to her mouth and tried to keep herself from trembling.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, knowing she could not deny his claims.

"Please, don't apologize. I am not angry. How could I fault you for something I am guilty of as well?" When she looked at him, he gave her a wry smile. "I myself am in love with another." Christine did not anticipate his confession but felt a little lighter now that she knew he was not angry with her. "I do not want to ever hear you apologize for loving my cousin. I have always wished he would find someone to love. I don't want you to think he did not love you, for I believe he did. Ever since you came here, he started doing things he would not normally do; taking supper with the rest of us on daily basis and conversing with people so easily as if he had been doing this all his life. How I wished you could be his wife and bear his children - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm hurting you." Raoul halted mid-speech when he saw the grief stricken expression on her face and the tears that continued to fall. He gathered her into his arms and she muffled her sobs against his shoulder. They sat there for long silent moments before Christine realized she was not the only one crying.

"Raoul?" She withdrew slightly to look at him in worry; he just simply shook his head. Now she realized that despite his tears on that day, he had not mourned properly.

"I'm sorry, it's just that...he was like the older brother I've never had. I wish he knew how much he means to me." Her heart went out to the Prince and she mourned the close brotherly relationship they had had.

 

* * *

 

Christine laid in her bed, idly caressing Apollo's head as became customary over the last few weeks. It had been a week since the messenger delivered the tragic news and two days since another message came - the war had been won and the soldiers were returning, which meant they had retrieved the bodies as well. She knew that the funeral would be held in a week and was terrified of how empty she felt at the thought. She knew she should be there to pay her last respects to both Erik and the other soldiers who had lost their lives in defending their country, yet she did not know if she could handle seeing his grave. She was not strong enough for that and the last thing she wanted to do was to break down in front of everybody present, who would no doubt speculate.

She looked down at the sleeping dog, glad to see him relaxed and snoring happily. For some strange reason, he had been uncharacteristically anxious for most of the day after a dream he had seemed to have. When was the time to go to bed, he whined and cried, wanting to do anything but sleep, so she tried to get him occupied and tire him out. It worked and he fell asleep two hours after midnight. Ironically, trying to tire out Apollo made her feel slightly tense and she could not fall asleep, tossing and turning on the goose feather mattress. She sighed, quietly rose up and settled on the window seat, her knees pressed to her chest. It was a very dark night and for the first time in days, tiny raindrops soaked the ground and left wet trails on her window. She followed one with her finger but when she spotted the accursed black flag, she pressed her forehead and palm against the cool glass, closing her eyes. Lone tear found its way down her cheek.

She missed Erik terribly.

When she opened her eyes again, the window was misted over from her breath. She wiped it away with her hand but then froze when she saw movement near the castle gate. Trying to focus, her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and she saw a black horse trotting to the centre of the courtyard. It had no rider and while she knew it was very foolish, she put on her shoes and dressing gown and quietly slipped from her room.

Against her better judgement she stepped out into the cold rainy night and inched toward the horse. It was a large black stallion and when she came closer, she instantly recognized him - it was Cesar! Christine reached up to caress his head but he seemed very anxious, tossing his head, neighing and grunting, nervously shifting his weight.

"Shh, Cesar." She tried to soothe the animal by taking his reigns; however he tossed his head again wildly. She knew something was very wrong and she went to inspect any injury he might have suffered in the battle but gasped when lightning illuminated a slumped body across the steed's back. Who was this man draped over Erik's horse? Her heart dropped into her stomach and she slightly bent to see into the man's face but it was obscured by his matted hair. 

Before she could brush the hair back, she noticed a familiar necklace hanging from the stranger's neck.


	9. Chapter 9

"Oh God, Erik." Christine's heart stuttered madly in her chest and her knees started shaking. This could not be possible! Was he dead, or still alive but severely wounded? How did he get on the horse? Thousands of questions ran through her mind but she forcefully pushed them all back, needing to focus on how to help him. She had to get him from the horse somehow and into the care of a physician. Sending a quick prayer to the heavens, she stepped to the other side of the horse, her small hands gripping the man's waist. She tugged, hoping she would not injure him further, feeling victorious when she felt him slide from the saddle. Thankfully he was not wearing his armor, so it made it a little bit easier.

She was not prepared to support his weight and she tumbled onto her backside, her legs cushioning his fall against her. He was heavy and she was sure she would be bruised tomorrow but she was past caring when a groan erupted from the man's throat. Her heart pounded against her rib cage and her breath fell in short gasps, the rain making her hair wet and sticking uncomfortably to her face and neck. That sound was the most beautiful she had ever heard; it was the sound of hope - he was alive!

Christine moved gently, trying not to jar him even more and cradled him to her body, his head nestled in the crook of her elbow. Running his hands across his face, she brushed back the clingy strands of black hair, exposing his features. She was aware he was not wearing his mask and the sight of the right side of his face startled her but she was more worried about the amount of blood that was covering him and her hands, warm and sticky. Despite his groan earlier, Erik seemed to be unconscious. She ran her fingers along the left side of his face, whispering most urgently.

"Erik, wake up, my love." There was no answer and she bit back a sob. She lowered her head to his chest, trying to hear his heart beating but all she could hear was the rush of blood pounding in her ears and her own harsh breathing. Bending over his face, she noted with relief his short soft exhales against her skin. Swallowing hard, she yelled, her voice echoing around the courtyard.

"Help me! Somebody, please!" She looked back at him, her eyes scanning his whole form, trying to ascertain his wounds. His clothing was black and wet and she had no way of telling if it was blood or rain that made it so. She heard heavy footfalls as they neared but she could only focus on Erik's dear face. Suddenly, he was being lifted from her by a couple of strong hands of the guards and she was helped to her feet by Meg's caring hands. She heard voices around her, suddenly too loud after the quiet that settled over the castle during the night. She heard someone bark instructions to fetch the physician but her eyes could only follow the unconscious man as he was carried inside the castle.

"Come, my Lady. You should go and rest, it will be a long night." Meg said gently, linking her arm with Christine's, worried that the Lady might faint. Meg was shocked but relieved that the Marquis was alive and hoped that his injuries were not fatal. She did not think Lady Christine would be able to withstand more of this torture. Christine followed wordlessly as the maid led her back to her chambers, lost in thought and worry for Erik's life. She wanted to be near him and if this night were meant to be his last hours, she did not want him to be alone but instead enveloped by her love. She was so lost in the haze of her mind that she did not notice Prince Raoul running towards them. When he took in Christine's form, his expression turned into horror.

"Christine? What happened? What is all this blood? I heard screaming!" For the first time she looked down at herself, paling at the amount of blood covering her white nightgown and hands; Erik's precious blood. She swallowed the bile that rose to her throat and breathed through her nose deeply before raising her eyes to Raoul's.

"It's not mine. Erik, he is-" She could not finish the sentence but by the imploring look on her face he understood nevertheless. He nodded and his eyes slid to Meg.

"Please, take care of Lady Christine, I will see how the Marquis is faring." He dashed off again and Christine was left in silence with Meg as they journeyed to her chambers. Once inside, the maid started hurriedly preparing a fresh nightgown from the closet. She cried out in alarm when she turned back, finding her Lady retching violently into an empty basin. Meg immediately sprung to action, pouring a bit of water into Christine's wash basin from the pitcher and soaking a cloth in the cool water. She proceeded to brush her mistress' hair aside after she was finished emptying her stomach, pressing the cool cloth against the nape of her neck.

"Are you all right, my Lady?"

"Aye, thank you, Meg."

"I will tell the lads to bring you the tub, so you can clean up and relax."

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Ten minutes later she stood by the wooden tub filled with hot water and began to undress. She flung the blood soaked nightgown as far as she could, not wanting to see the dark patches as the proof of Erik's injuries. It pained her that she could not be with him at the moment and banished every thought of him dying from her mind. She could not think such things or she would surely go mad. Christine immersed herself in the rose scented water but did not tarry long as she anticipated the news of Erik's condition.

She dressed in a clean nightgown and put a dressing gown on top of it. She wrung her hands as she paced along her chambers before she came to sit on the cushioned window seat, her teeth worrying her lower lip, her foot tapping in anxiety. The fire roaring in the hearth in her room did nothing to dispel the chill in her body. Half an hour later, there was a knock on her door and Raoul's voice announcing his presence. She called out to let him enter and stood from her seat abruptly as he did so, her heart beating furiously in her chest. She looked at him with wide eyes, praying that he would start to speak soon to ease her troubled mind. The Prince looked tired but his eyes were clear and that gave her hope.

"Erik sustained a couple of injuries and while none of them were fatal, he did lost quite a bit of blood. The physician said that he needs plenty of rest and frequent meals to build up his strength again once he regains consciousness. He will live, Christine." The sudden relief at Raoul's words made her knees tremble and she reached a hand to brace herself against the stone wall. She saw him take a few steps towards her, his hand supporting her elbow lest she fainted. He led her back to the window seat and then both sat down.

"Truly?" She whispered, still disbelieving.

"Aye." His grin was wide as his eyes sparkled. He embraced her and she fell against him in relief, letting a few cleansing tears escape from beneath her closed eyelids. She drew back and looked at him almost shyly.

"Can I...that is, may I see him? I need to be with him." She was grateful that they had talked last week and Raoul did not harbour any ill will towards her for loving another man. On the contrary, he had been understanding and even happy that his cousin found love.

"He is sleeping at the moment, but I think that you can visit him. The physician stitched his wounds with Anne's help, although he might still look a little bit pale." Christine nodded in understanding; she cared not for Erik's appearance, she just had to be close to him. Raoul led her through the corridors in silence; the castle was now quiet after all the chaos that erupted mere hours ago. Christine smiled as they neared Erik's chambers; she could see Apollo lying faithfully in front of his master's door. In her distress she had not seen the dog leave her chambers but was glad that they would be reunited once again after Erik woke up.

"Do not stay long, Christine. You need your sleep as well." She promised the Prince she would not remain long in Erik's chambers and give him a smile to wish him goodnight. Once he rounded the corner, she opened the door quietly, not wishing to rouse the man inside. Stepping over the sleeping dog, she entered the room, noting the pleasant warmth that enveloped her. Flames were licking at the wood in the fireplace, but she could see the fire was dwindling, so before she did anything else, she closed the door and hurried to add more wood to the hearth. Satisfied with her work she rose and settled her eyes on the bed. 

Her heart thundered as she beheld Erik's form, his chest bare save for the bandage around his stomach, his lower body covered by the sheets. Her eyes roamed across his features like a woman starved, memorizing every dip and curve and wincing at every bruise and cut on his skin, every bandaged injury. She watched as his chest rose and fell, afraid to move her eyes elsewhere, needing to know he was alive and breathing. She knelt by his bed, reverently taking his hand in between her smaller ones and gently brought it to her lips, her eyes never leaving his face.

Christine traced her eyes over the familiar perfection of his left cheek, then slowly moved to the newly exposed right cheek. She had never seen such an injury or defect and wondered where he got it. She had not been so naive to think the mask hid a flawless right cheek but she had not been expecting this. The skin was distorted, forming lumps of flesh across his whole cheek and eyebrow, his right nostril merged into one of the lumps under his eye. His bottom right eyelid drooped slightly, unsupported by the firm material of his mask. Of course it had been startling to look at for the first time, but as her eyes roved across the bumps, her heart ached with longing. She wanted to touch him, to explore the texture of his ravaged side but did not dare to lest she hurt him. She did not know whether that part of his face caused him pain or not. Smiling lightly to herself, she hoped to find out later.

She ran her lips across the back of his hand and for the first time since he arrived, she felt everything melt from her. The torturing grief gave way to naked relief, so potent it would have brought her to her knees if she weren't already sitting. She did not stop her tears from falling, simply let them tumble down her cheeks and onto his hand as she wept.

* * *

 

It had been three days since Erik came back to the castle. The news spread like wildfire all around and the black flags were replaced by much brighter ones with the family's Coat of Arms. He had not yet awoken properly, having only bouts of consciousness where Anne would make him drink water. He had been hardly cognizant of his surroundings at those times, usually falling asleep right after his head met the pillow again. Despite that, Christine found herself in good spirits, often sneaking into his chambers in the evenings to sit by him, hold his hand and sing to him, hoping her voice would carry over into his dreams. She wished she could take care of him and change his bandages but she knew it would be very inappropriate and it would cause a lot of questions. And so she left the task to Anne's skillful hands, while Christine had secretly spent as much of her time with him as she could, even though he had been oblivious to her presence.

Tonight she padded secretly from her room after everyone went to bed, sneaking into Erik's chambers and sitting beside him on the bed. His skin was beginning to regain its previous colour, so he was not so deathly pale anymore. She gazed at him lovingly, a song escaping her lips. She chose the same one as the day he had left for the war.

_"The road now leads onward, I know not where_  
I feel in my heart that you will be there  
Whenever a storm comes, whatever our fears  
The journey goes on as your love ever nears 

_Here is my heart, I give it to you_  
Take me with you across this land  
These are my dreams, so simple and few  
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands" 

The song came to an end and Christine sat there in silence, just cradling his hand between hers. A soft moan came from the sleeping man and she watched as he stirred, her heart in her throat. He had never woken in her presence and she hoped that this was the time that he would be aware of his surroundings for the first time. The moan turned into a groan and she watched his face carefully, elated when his eyes fluttered open. His hand tightened around her fingers and she saw the moment he was aware of someone else's presence. Erik turned his head to her direction and at last, _at last_ , she gazed into his piercing green eyes, which, to her joy, sparked with recognition. She swallowed, not knowing what to say but was spared when he started to speak, low and hoarse from days of inactivity.

"I told you I would return." She let out a relieved chuckle, which to her ears sounded more like a choked sob. She felt his hand tighten around hers.

"I would prefer you return in one piece and uninjured, my Lord." She teased, happy to see an amused quirk of the corner of his lips. "How are you feeling?" Erik pondered her question as he tried to stretch his body, his hand coming up to his bandaged stomach as the movement caused him pain.

"I'm fine." Christine knew he was only trying to placate her but she had seen the discomfort in his face. However, she let it slide and released his hand.

"Would you like to sit up?" He nodded mutely and she bent over him, gently helping him to an upright position, fluffing a pillow behind his back. He leaned back with a sigh and she reached for the goblet with water, bringing it to his lips and allowing him to drink little sips.

"Thank you." They sat in silence for a few moments. Christine's eyes lowered to her clasped hands in her lap, hoping to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Unfortunately for her, Erik was perceptive and the lone tear that tumbled down her cheek caught his attention. "I hope these tears are not shed on my account, my Lady." He teased her but could not allow him to distract her. She sniffed and looked at him in all seriousness.

"We thought you were dead. I do not want to go through all of that ever again, Erik." His expression softened, his earlier teasing forgotten as he regarded her quietly. She looked away from his face, instead letting her eyes fall on the bandage wrapped around his stomach. His touch on her hand, however, brought her eyes back to his.

"I am sorry I caused you pain. But I'm here. I'm fine." She let out a soft sigh, allowing herself to smile lightly. 

"That you are." She reached to touch his face, her palm molding against his right cheek, seeking his warmth. Yet the moment he felt her touch, his eyes hardened and she realized it had been a mistake. His hand caught her wrist in a vice like grip, forcing her hand away from his face before covering his deformity.

"Where is my mask, Christine?" Erik asked, his voice steely and on edge, his eyes flashing in anger. She was taken by surprise and almost recoiled from the fury in his voice. She did not understand his reaction; he had been perfectly fine moments earlier before he realized he was not wearing his mask. "Where is my mask, Christine?!" This time it was more of a demand than a question and Christine stood abruptly, her heart thundering in her chest. She had seen him this angry before, but never with her. He had not been this angry with her when she had visited him in his tent to confront him during the jousting tournament. She swallowed at the visible rage in his eyes and blindly reached for his mask on his bedside table. It had been cleaned of all his blood and placed on the table for his easy reach, right next to her necklace. Wordlessly, she handed the white object to him, watching as he put it on his face. She hated that he felt he must cover his face in front of her, loathed the white piece of leather with passion.

"Go." He growled menacingly and when she didn't move, he roared. "Leave!" Obeying his harsh command, she wasted no time and hurried from the room.


End file.
